


The Water May Be Sweet

by VenomQuill



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Clay Soos, Deerper, Gargrunkle Stan, Gen, Is this technically a prequel?, MerMabel, Minor Violence, Sphynxford - Freeform, WereWendy, monsterfalls - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-03-23 16:47:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13791930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenomQuill/pseuds/VenomQuill
Summary: Dipper Pines is a young "adventurer and paranormal investigator" in the making. In one of his adventures in Gravity Falls, he stumbles across a curse not even the author of the journals had come across. What's worse than becoming cursed? The whole town becoming cursed... and subsequently blaming Dipper.





	1. Discovery

Pine trees shuttered and waved in the tentative breeze. The hot summer sun blazed over the pine forest and all of its inhabitants. Birds sang lazily and squirrels lounged on their branches. A little brunette boy walked through the woods. He surveyed his surroundings with wide eyes. In his hands, he gripped an old, leather-bound journal. A golden cut out of a six-fingered hand was stamped on its cover, the number "3" was drawn in hard ink. Currently, a bookmark was placed in the middle of it.

Dipper jumped as a rabbit ran over his feet. He sighed. “This is dumb. I should just go back home.” The twelve-year-old boy opened the book he was carrying and scanned it again. He pulled out a UV light and inspected it like that. The words had not changed. They would not change depending on his situation. That’s not how books work.

With an angry grumble, Dipper put the book back in his vest and continued walking. He looked up and then took out his water bottle. “Great. Empty.” He put away the useless plastic and stopped. Before him, twinkling in the light and silently gurgling through the woods, was a little stream. The water was light and most definitely pure. No moss or algae clung to the water that tumbled over smooth rocks. No silt or dirt touched the bottom. In fact, the only reason Dipper knew it was there was from the sunlight sparkling over the clear water.

Dipper glanced about. He was a bit far away from the Shack… and he was thirsty… Could people even drink stream-water? Well, yes. The auth–Great Uncle Ford did when he went out exploring. So, the water should be fine… right?

Dipper knelt beside the stream and held his empty bottle under the quick flowing current. It filled up impossibly fast. “What the…? Nah.” Dipper smirked. He was just seeing things. After a three-hour-long plaidapus search, his mind was most likely so desperate to find something weird it imagined the water magically filling up his bottle. Still, even after it was full and the glimmering water slipped over his overly warm fingers, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of suspicion and curiosity.

However, the hot summer sun eventually changed his mind. As soon as he took a drink from the water, he found that it was gone as quickly as it filled up. That wasn’t magic though. What was magic was how good the water tasted! Despite being clear, the water tasted sweet–almost like candy. Dipper filled up his bottle again and, after he’d completely drained the bottle, filled it up again and capped it. “And one for the road.”

Dipper decided to follow the stream for a few yards before it turned and swam in the opposite direction of the Shack. It didn’t matter; he wasn’t thirsty anymore, anyway. The sweet tang of the water still lingered on his mind. He smirked as he imagined the look on his sister’s face. She’d probably _love_ it. Then again, he should probably go to Great Uncle Ford, first. What if that water _was_ magical? But, a good sort of magic? Hopefully? After all, he did drink quite a bit of it…

Dipper shook his anxious thoughts away. He’d show it to Mabel, first, probably. Unless she was over at Grenda’s place again. That was plausible. If there was one thing that _wasn’t_ mysterious about this town, it was Mabel’s infectious enthusiasm and love of socializing.

Gompers bleated at Dipper as he passed the goat. The one-horned goat currently grazed on some of the green grass near the Bottomless Pit. Dipper’s gaze crossed over the front yard. Although it had been a while, it was still weird not listening to the clamor of a new crowd, ripe for the scamming by Grunkle Stan. A place once bustling with people was now quiet as Great Uncle Ford had started to take back his house.

The door creaked open on Dipper’s command and clicked shut as he left it.

Mabel’s feet pattered the ground in rapid succession through the hall. Dipper got no further warning as his excited sister launched herself out of the hallway and landed in front of Dipper. He gasped and stopped dead in his tracks to keep from running into her. Her braces glinted in the light as her smile, wide as ever, caught some of the afternoon sunlight. “Hey, Dipper! Guess what happened!”

“What?” Dipper managed to get the single word through before Mabel started up again.

“There’s going to be a party at the pool!” Mabel’s words turned into a squeal only Waddles could understand. “We are _totally_ going, right? What’s that?” Mabel’s gaze snapped to his hand.

Dipper looked down and drew out the water bottle. Had he been holding it? Probably. He was planning on showing her, anyway. “Just some water I found. Want some?”

“Did you get that from the lake?” Mabel prompted, suspicion now lacing her words.

“Nope! There’s a stream out in the woods. It’s pretty good. But, if you don’t want it, I understand.” Dipper shrugged in a casual way. He hid a smile. He could practically see the gears turning in his sister’s head. It was stream water from the woods, so it was probably bad, but he just said that he’d take the offer back. What sibling could refuse that offer?

“Sure!” Mabel took the water from him. The reaction was immediate. As soon as she took a drink from it, her eyes went round. She stared at the water bottle as if it had just spoken to her. “Wow! It’s like puppies and kittens are having a party in my mouth!”

“What’s that you got there?” Grunkle Stan peered over Mabel’s shoulder.

Mabel’s grip on the bottle tightened, but she didn’t answer right away. Dipper piped up, “It’s water I found in the woods.”

“Water?” Grunkle Stan scoffed. “You kids. That’s probably got fish in it or something.”

Mabel wrinkled her nose. “It doesn’t!” What was that tone? “It doesn’t taste like fish! It’s better than Pit Cola.”

Dipper raised an eyebrow at her. “Uh… yeah. It’s pretty good actually.” Wait, was he seriously defending this water?

“Oh, right. So, you happened to find a magic soda river out there?” Grunkle Stan prompted and then held out his hand. “Give it to me; let me try!”

Mabel’s nails creased the plastic of the bottle. “You just said you didn’t want any!”

“Come on, Mabel.” Dipper’s voice took on a more serious tone. Mabel wasn’t acting right. “Maybe that water is bad.”

Mabel pouted and then handed the water to Grunkle Stan. “Fine.”

Without a care for Dipper’s warning, their grunkle drank nearly half of the water. “Holy mackerel! Where’d you get this?”

Dipper pointed to the door. “There’s a stream a little while away. But, uh… it tastes kind of funny.”

“Hmm… outside, you say?” Grunkle Stan prompted and looked over the water. “You know, with the Mystery Shack being out of business and all…”

Mabel pouted. “Can I have it back?”

“Actually,” Dipper piped up, “I was, uh, going to give it to Great Uncle Ford?”

Stan’s mood visibly decreased upon mention of his brother. He gave it back to Dipper. “Don’t worry about him. You can stay up here! With us!” His smile returned. “Who wants to go set off some highly dangerous fireworks on the roof?”

Mabel’s eyes brightened. “Yeah!”

Dipper’s smile returned in earnest. He raced after Mabel and Stan. Dipper sat the bottle, and his journal, down on the kitchen table as they went.

*          *          *          *          *

“What are they up to, now?” the author grumbled and winced as yet another explosion went off outside. He sat up straighter in his chair and looked up. Then he turned his gaze to one of the monitors on his desk. He could see Stanley, Dipper, and Mabel out on the roof with… _explosives?_

Stanford bristled. “Dammit, Stanley! I put those away for a reason!” He rolled away from his desk, got up, and stalked into the elevator. It did not take long for him to go from Level Three to Level One and then out the vending machine door. He grimaced as yet another firework blasted off. Stanley was going to set fire to his house if they continue on like that!

He hesitated by the kitchen. His journal, a bookmark stuck snuggly within, sat beside a mostly empty water bottle on the table. Condensation on the bottle had been interrupted by multiple fingers and hands. It was sitting _very_ close to his research. Before he could reach it, Waddles jumped up onto the table. His beady eyes turned on the water bottle. Stanford bristled and rushed to the aid of his journal as the pig snapped open the bottle in his teeth and licked up the water. Had Ford been a second late in picking up the book, it would have gotten wet. The same couldn’t be said for his hand. Stanford sighed, wiped off his wet hand with a kitchen towel, stuck the journal in his jacket, and then walked over to the closet that had the explosives. It was empty. He stalked around to the gift shop. He knew the water mess would stay there until probably Dipper cleaned it up. Stanley was so irresponsible!

By the time he’d gotten back to the gift shop, the explosions had stopped. They most likely ran out of ammo. Figures; he only had a limited supply. He heard laughter as he came close to the door. He reached for the ladder, and then hesitated. Mabel’s laughter rang the loudest as Stan probably told one of his horrible jokes. Dipper laughed alongside them. They booed at his attempt at a joke, but it was not bad. It was light-hearted and Dipper laughed along with them. Stanford’s grimace faded into a frown. He sighed, relaxed his hand, and walked back through the vending machine and to his lab.

*          *          *          *          *

Dipper rubbed his eyes and sat up. He tried to stifle a yawn, but he couldn’t. His gaze traveled to the bed across from his. Mabel was still out cold. He glanced out the window. The morning sun spilled light into the inky sky. Why was he even awake? Dipper flopped back onto the bed. They’d been up all night. He stifled a laugh. The pool party was fun, but the real fun came once Wendy–once the teens arrived. He tried to remember the party, to relive the exuberance. However, he came to a block. At one point, Wendy commented on how he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Next thing he knew, he was carried to the car. Mabel, exuberant as ever, raced to the car and, once they got home, jumped into bed. She was out cold the instant her head touched the pillow. Her zombified brother had fallen asleep immediately as well.

Dipper looked outside again. It was too early to be up! He sighed and shut his eyes again. Soon enough, he was drifting into sleep.

A few hours later, when Dipper went downstairs, he found that the journal was not there. Oh well. Great Uncle Ford must have taken it. It _was_ his, after all. Still, Dipper couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Maybe he’d find the plaidapus this time around! However, a nyarf bullet to his shoulder trailed by his sister’s laugh told him that he probably had more important things to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank all that is holy I finally got this fanfiction down! <3 I've been really looking forward to posting this for an extremely long time.
> 
> Dipper discovers a sparkling stream and its water is amazing! I thought that it would make sense for the water to taste really good to encourage people to drink it and for people to get defensive over it to cause them to find more and for more people to search for it. Magic is weird. Haha


	2. Change!

The next day, Dipper, hungry now that lunch time was coming around, entered the kitchen and then sighed.

Stan hesitated and looked up at him. “Oh. Hey, kid!” In his hands was a ten-gallon-jug currently a quarter full of water. Two whole packs of full water bottles were by the table. Another package of water bottles, all but one being empty, were on the table. “Hows about you help me out here?”

“Grunkle Stan! There’s something weird about that water!” Dipper complained.

Stan waved his hand with a dismissive huff. “There’s nothing _wrong_ with this water. It tastes like bacon and toffee! People are going to love it!”

Dipper recoiled. “Bacon and toffee? I thought it tasted like candy…”

Grunkle Stan, who had by now filled two more bottles, shrugged. “It was definitely bacon and toffee. Say, what are you up to?”

“I, uh, was going to eat lunch,” Dipper stated.

Grunkle Stan filled up a few more bottles. “Well, since you’re here, get working! I’ve already gotten Soos to load up the car. Why don’t you help him?”

“But I can’t lift that!” Dipper complained.

Grunkle Stan raised an eyebrow at him. “Then take those fliers. Wendy already agreed to paste them up around the Shack. These will sell like no one’s business! I know it!”

“Like, right now?” Dipper blurted out. He cleared his throat. “I, uh–You mean now?”

“Probably. Now get working! Those posters won’t put themselves up!” Stan continued to pour the probably magic water into more bottles. Dipper sighed and picked up the fliers and a stapler.

He needn’t go far before he found his parten–co-wor–friend with fliers and a stapler as well. “Oh, hey Dipper!”

“Hey, Wendy!” Dipper called back and rushed to her side. “So, uh, cool right? Uh, since the Mystery Shack shut down and everything.” He cleared his throat. Stupid!

Wendy put a sign on a wooden pole and stapled it. “Yeah. That water tastes great, though.”

“Huh?” Dipper looked up at her in shock. He nearly let go of the paper he was stapling to another pole.

“That water you guys are selling? I decided to sneak some while he wasn’t looking. Weirdest thing; tastes like jerky. What did your uncle put in it?” she prompted.

“Jerky?” Okay, that was weird. She was just messing him. That water _definitely_ tasted sweet, like candy. It wasn’t bacon or toffee or jerky! Weird. “I, uh, didn’t put anything in it. I found it. Grunkle Stan just wants to sell it. He says it’s because the Mystery Shack is shut down.”

Wendy snickered and stapled a poster to a tree next to the entrance sign. “Definitely. That old codger would do anything for a few bucks.”

“Heh. Yeah,” Dipper agreed and stapled paper to a pole farther away from the Shack. “Definitely. So, uh, did Soos have any?”

Wendy laughed. “Not really! Well, I snuck one, right? Soos thought he’d do the same. He ended up breaking one of those cheap bottles and got totally _soaked!”_

Dipper laughed as he imagined Soos holding a broken water bottle. “Where is he now?”

“We went back to change,” Wendy said with a shrug. “He’ll be back.”

The thought of the water bothered him again. Did it taste different to everyone? That water was _definitely_ magical. There was no doubt in the world. Hopefully there weren’t any bad side effects…

 

By the time the sun was down, everything was done. In fact, they got a few customers. A short skirmish between Great Uncle Ford and Grunkle Stan, however, over “keeping us up with all that noise” stopped the water sale from going any further that night. So, they would have to wait until the following day. Still, they’d sold half of their stock already. That wasn’t bad.

 

“Good morning, Dipper!” Mabel’s voice broke through Dipper’s lethargy. He opened his eyes to see Mabel sitting up in bed. “I call shower!” With that, she was gone. Dipper looked after her in confusion. Mabel? Morning? Shower? Now?

Well, that would give him an extra few minutes in bed, right? So, what was the harm? Dipper stretched and then tensed. His blankets moved a bit _too_ far away. Something touched his leg. A sudden flash of fear overtook Dipper and he scrambled to get off his bed and ended up falling onto the floor in a heap of blankets and tangled limbs. He looked up. The bed was empty. No snakes or animals or objects out of place were there. Dipper looked down at the blanket. Something dusky brown was on his waist. He pulled the blankets back to see most of a deer body. Dipper shrieked and pushed himself back. However, no matter how much he moved, the body followed him. It wasn’t until he hit the desk with one of his hooves that he realized that he just hit the desk with one of his hooves. _He had hooves._ Dipper set a hand on his head and shrieked in terror and surprise–again. Large, triangular ears grew from the sides of his head. Wisps of fur ringed his jaw.

Heavy steps thundered up the stairs and the door burst open. Grunkle Stan stood at the door, bristling. His face was wet, as if Dipper had caught him shaving. “G-Grunkle Stan,” Dipper squeaked. “I-I’m a deer.”

For a second, Grunkle Stan didn’t say anything. His wide eyes traveled over Dipper’s frail, dusty brown body. Large white spots peppered his back and sides. His belly fur and tail was white as well. His little hooves twitched, and his legs brought themselves closer to himself. Dipper’s triangular ears were flat to his head. He stared back at Grunkle Stan with terrified eyes.

Grunkle Stan summoned a smile and attempted a laugh. It was hollow, fake. “This totally beats your wolf boy costume!”

“This isn’t fake!” Dipper cried. “I’m going to get Great Uncle Ford!” He scrambled to get up. However, his gangly legs refused to move. His front legs slipped so that his hands and his back hooves had a firm grip on the floor, but nothing else.

“Okay, kid. My smarty pants brother probably has somethin’ to fix you right up.” Grunkle Stan crossed the room in an instant. However, as he wrapped his arms around Dipper’s deer body, a terrible shriek emitted from the bathroom. The two paled instantly.

“Mabel!” Dipper wheezed.

Grunkle Stan threw Dipper over his shoulder and ran out of the attic. He knocked on the door. “What’s wrong, Sweetie?”

“I-I–Um, I can’t get up.” Mabel’s voice filtered in through the door. “I don’t have legs anymore!”

“What?!” Grunkle Stan opened the door. Lying in the bath tub, shower still running and stopper in the drain now collecting water, was Mabel. At least, one half of her. She’d put on a soaking shirt. She looked up at them with round eyes. Little fins popped out from the sides of her head. From the waist down was the real oddity. A pink fish tail, long and glimmering, fanned out in the bath water.

“I’m a mermaid!” Mabel threw her hands up in the air with a broad grin. “Are you a deer?”

Dipper looked down at his front legs and then at Mabel. “This isn’t good.” He looked over at Grunkle Stan. “Did you sell the rest of that water?”

Grunkle Stan set him down. “Stay with your sister!”

Then, he was gone.

Dipper folded his legs under him and looked up at Mabel. “Well. I think that water had something to do with this.”

Mabel looked down at her fish tail. “Oh! Magic water! No wonder it tasted like puppies made of ice cream!” She gasped. “I can visit Mermando, now! Oh, we have to go to the lake!”

“Not now!” Dipper stated firmly. “We don’t know what this is! What if you lose your tail in the ocean or you can’t breathe underwater?”

“I can totally breath under water.” Mabel waved her hand with a dismissive “pfft”. “Can you stand up?”

Dipper looked down at his legs and took a shaky breath. “I-I don’t know. I couldn’t earlier!” Dipper unfolded his legs. He managed to stretch out his hind legs so that his butt was in the air. However, he couldn’t work with his front legs. Darn legs! How do deer do this sort of thing? When he finally managed to stamp both front legs on the ground and push himself a few inches off the ground, he slipped. He yelled and fell onto the damp floor with a huff.

Then, something changed. They heard a thunderous roar. Dipper and Mabel both jumped. Mabel’s smile left entirely. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY’RE GONE?!” That sounded like Grunkle Stan, probably. But it was deeper and harsher like rocks bumping together in a rock slide. This roar was followed by a cough and a few snarls.

“We brought them back to town, Mr. Pines!” Soos’ voice was shaky in a laughing-to-hide-the-fear-but-actually-really-afraid-and-sort-of-have-this-inbetween-laugh-scream-and-I’ll-probably-faint-soon sort of way.

The door opened and closed downstairs. Then, a wild animal snarled downstairs. They could hear the wood splintering under the force of the beast’s weight and strength. Dipper and Mabel gasped, “Grunkle Stan!”

Dipper scrambled to get up, but failed. The floor was slippery and made of tile and he had never walked as a deer before. Dipper flopped onto his side and scrambled for a bit before falling limp. “Ugh! Why can’t I walk?”

Then, the doorway was blocked. Ford stood in the doorway, gaze hard and one hand on his waist. However, when he saw the state that his great niece and nephew were in, his eyes widened. “Oh no.”

“What’s happening?” Dipper blurted out. “I-I’m a deer! Mabel’s a mermaid! What’s happening? Where’s Grunkle Stan?”

“Calm down,” Ford soothed and relaxed from his tense position. “Stanley isn’t here right now. We just need to get you two to the lab.”

A giant rock statue appeared behind Ford. The man yelled and spun around. In an instant, his ray gun was in his hands and he took a step back to get out of range and hide the children from sight.

“It’s me!” The gargoyle held up his thick, clawed hands. In the place of their grunkle was a gargoyle. Stone wings fidgeted at his side. His stony feet were latched onto the ground. A long tail swished back and forth behind him. “It’s me, Stanley.”

Ford lowered his gun. “Did anyone else drink that water?”

“Wendy and Soos,” Dipper said in an instant. “They drank some while putting it up for sale! Well, it spilled on Soos but Wendy drank it.”

“For sale?” Ford’s gaze snapped to Stanley. “You were _selling_ it?”

“Yeah!” Grunkle Stan’s voice was harder, now, in his indignance. “I didn’t know it was poisoned!”

“Where is it, now?” Great Uncle Ford prompted.

“In town,” Grunkle Stan replied. “Soos just took the rest of it to town.”

“Oh, this is not good.” Stanford put away his gun. “Da–Ugh! Stanley, bring the kids downstairs. I’m going to look through my lab notes. I don’t remember seeing anything like this before, but if it’s here, it’s been documented.” He turned and darted down the stairs.

Grunkle Stan walked into the bathroom, then. Both kids were down. Mabel was in the bathtub with no hope of flopping down the stairs. Dipper had no chance to get up. He wasn’t even sure he could stand. Grunkle Stan picked up Dipper again. “Up you go. I’ll find something to bring you downstairs, Mabel.”

Dipper’s legs dangled uselessly under him as Grunkle Stan now held him around his deer body under his arm. Dipper winced upon feeling Grunkle Stan’s claws on his side. Grunkle Stan glanced at him and relaxed his hand. No blood had been drawn, thankfully. That didn’t make the situation any better. Although Grunkle Stan still wore his undershirt, Dipper could feel the hard, stony skin on his arm and the toughness of his side. It was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place–literally!

Then, they got downstairs. When they approached the gift shop, they heard muffled growls and heavy breathing. Grunkle Stan bristled and stalked into the gift shop. Great Uncle Ford was on the floor. He was on his hands and knees, but just barely. One hand was wrapped around his stomach. The other was curled into the wood floor. He sputtered and wheezed and shook as he tried to struggle with some unseen force.

“G-Grunkle Ford?” Dipper wheezed.

Stanford looked back at them with round eyes. However, his eyes were not normal. They were a deep amber and slitted like a cat’s. Dipper would have mistaken them for Bill’s if they weren’t so vibrant. Bill’s eyes were more of a cream yellow rather than deep amber. “G-Get out!” he wheezed and then snarled and curled up. “M-my lab has answers! It m-must!” He cried in pain and fell forward as his arm slipped from under him. The two could only watch the ugly transformation in horror.

Stanford shuttered as if he’d fallen into a seizure. However, his heavy breathing contradicted that assumption. Amber fur bristled all over his body. A tail slithered onto the floor behind him. Great colorful wings sprouted out of his back and pulled his trench coat back. Great Uncle Ford’s ears became large and circular. Otherwise, his face didn’t change. His six fingered hands became fluffy and melted into six-toed feline paws. Through the ordeal, he managed to drag himself a good foot or two so that he was halfway in the hallway to the basement.

Great Uncle Ford, shivering, lay before them.

Grunkle Stan set Dipper down and knelt beside Great Uncle Ford. He hooked his arms under the sphinx and stood up. Great Uncle Ford’s limp tail waved, and head lolled as Grunkle Stan carried him. “You’re not leaving me, Ford! Wake up!”

Dipper watched them go. He struggled to get to his feet. Then, the door opened.

Wendy and Soos ran inside. “Dipper!”

“Dude, what’s happening?!” Soos asked as the two teens helped Dipper up.

“I-I don’t know!” Dipper answered with a shake of his head. “I woke up like this! Then Mabel turned into a mermaid while she was in the shower. Grunkle Stan turned into this–this gargoyle downstairs. Just now, Great Uncle Ford turned into a sphinx! This has to be because of the water. It has to be.”

Wendy nearly choked on her own breath. “That water? That we _all_ drank?”

Dipper nodded. “Y-yeah. That water.” He straightened out his legs so that he was standing. Wendy and Soos let go. Dipper wobbled and fell with a sharp yelp. However, he was quick to get back on his shaky hooves. “Oh, this is all my fault! If I didn’t drink that stupid water we wouldn’t be like this! …everyone else has the water.”

Soos and Wendy nodded. “Yeah.”

“We just took it to the grocery store, dude,” Soos replied.

“We’ll going to have to stop them from selling it, then!” Dipper stated with a hard nod of his head and then hesitated. “Oh. But Mabel can’t move. Great Uncle Ford might have gotten hurt and… and no one would want to see Grunkle Stan. I can’t even walk!”

Wendy set her gaze. “We’ve got you, Dipper!”

“To the convenience store!” Soos cried and ran out the door, Wendy at heel.

Dipper stumbled out of the gift shop and steadied himself on the railing of the stairs. He could climb stairs. Deer could climb stairs, right?

Dipper slowly put one hoof up on a stair. Then, he moved a second. He pulled himself up a few stairs. One hoof at a time, Dipper was able to scale the stairs, though he wobbled and nearly slipped at points. One hand was permanently on the handrail while the other touched the opposite wall.

A hearty _splash_ sent water dribbling onto the carpet just outside of the bathroom. Dipper’s ears flicked forward. With a burst of speed and confidence, he pulled himself out of the stairs and then fell onto the landing with a hard _thump!_ Dipper shook himself, scrambled to his gangly hooves, and stumbled into the bathroom.

Mabel looked up at him. A towel shaded her eyes and fell over her head. She was now half on the floor. Her tail waved in the still running water. Her belly was on the lip of the bathtub. The bathroom sink was clear, now, as everything that had cluttered it was now on the floor. She gave him a wide smile. “Hey, Deerper!”

Dipper sighed. Of course she found a ridiculous nickname for him already. “Okay, so we have to get you out of here somehow.”

“I know! We need fish sticks, duct tape, and–”

Dipper crossed his arms. “That will never work. What if we got you a fish tank and put it on a wagon!” Dipper smirked at his own brilliance.

“What about a cooler? Yeah! Like how we brought Mermando to the lake!”

“Hmm… and I can drive!” Dipper pointed out. “I won’t even need to walk. Cool!” His smile faded. “Oh. But what about everyone else? I don’t think they’re ready to see a mermaid and half-deer boy…”

Mabel tipped her head. “Why not? Mermaids are awesome!”

“We should probably wait for Great Uncle Ford and Grunkle Stan,” Dipper pointed out. “They’ll know what to do.”

A heavy pair of feet tromped up the stairs. The two kids looked back to their Grunkle Stan in the doorway. “Ford’s in his lab right now. He’s okay.” Dipper closed his mouth. Grunkle Stan continued, “He’s looking up a cure right now. Mabel, sweetie, do you mind making my, uh, wings look like a costume?”

Mabel’s eyes grew round and her giant grin glinted in the light. “Yay! Costume make-over!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mark: "Hey, guys. Welcome to the maybe new challenge. We're gunna be doing improve. This is where we play the game called _'Change'_. We're gunna get a suggestion to do a normal improv scene, and whoever's sitting here gets to say the word 'change'. And when you hear the word 'change' you have to _change_ exactly what you just said."  
>  Wade: "Change."  
> Mark: "You have to jump up and down and scream like a baboon." ~Mark, Wade, Bob, Tyler, and Ethan in [CHANGE](https://youtu.be/n0YPRt6QZ4w)
> 
> Ahem, anyway, I thought it would take a while for the changes to really happen. It's like, not instantaneous. There are certain requirements that need to be met. But then, when the change starts, it happens pretty quickly. The more you fight, the more painful it is. That's why Ford and Stan were in a lot of pain while Mabel and Dipper weren't. Dipper was asleep while Mabel was just like "WHOA I'M GROWING A TAIL". Stanley was taken by surprise. Ford knew it was coming and knew it was going to happen, but struggled against it anyway because holy crap he's growing an extra set of limbs on his back.


	3. The Calm Before...

Dipper lay in his room. He took a deep breath and pulled himself to his feet. One hand gripped the end table their lamp was on. The other was held out for balance. Eventually, Dipper was able to get to his hooves. After some wobbling, he stabilized himself and slowly walked a circuit around the room. Then, he walked another. Then a third. Dipper cried out in exuberance as he finally tackled the hardest obstacle of his new body.

“Hey, Dipper.”

Dipper screamed and jumped so badly he fell over.

“Whoa, whoa! I didn’t mean to scare you!”

The cervataur looked up to Grunkle Stan in the door way. Grunkle Stan had to really squeeze through, but he managed. In his arms was an empty fish tank big enough for a small shark. “Oh. Hey, G-Grunkle Stan!” Dipper waved. His heart beat a million miles an hour. Why? Why did he feel this way? He knew his gargantuan Grunkle was scary looking, but he also knew that he’d never hurt him. However, an instinct not his own told him the exact opposite. _Run! Run! He’s a monster! He’s bigger than you! Look at those teeth. Look at those claws. Look at those muscles! He’ll rip you apart soon as he gets the chance!_

Grunkle Stan set the fish tank beside Mabel’s bed and pulled the furniture back to give the fish tank room to sit. “Setting up a new bed for Mabel to sleep in. Do-dee-do.” Dipper looked over his Grunkle more closely. A zipper had been painted and glued on his back. Stitches ran around his wings, hips, and shoulders. A plastic “FAKE” stamp was on the back of one of his wings.

“What are you looking at, kid? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” Grunkle Stan laughed.

Dipper forced a smile. “So, how’s Mabel doing?”

“She’s in my brother’s lab.” Grunkle Stan’s voice was tinged with bitterness. He shrugged it off. “She’ll love this new bed!”

Dipper bounced on his hooves. “Great! Hopefully she won’t have to use it for too long. She’ll probably use it after she turns back into a girl, though.”

Grunkle Stan laughed, baring great fangs that glinted in the light. _Run! Run! RUN!_ The voice in Dipper’s head screamed. _Look at those teeth. He’s going to eat you!_ The instinct the run became so potent so fast that Dipper jumped and had to physically stop himself from running.

Grunkle Stan’s smile faded. “What’s wrong, kid?”

Dipper shook his head. “I… I think that water did something to my head. I’m going to go check on Mabel.”

With that, the cervataur fawn walked steadily out of the room and then encountered the stairs. One foot in a front of the other, Dipper was able to pick his way down the old, rickety stairs. He tapped the code into the vending machine without a second thought and traveled down the little concrete hallway. As soon as he stepped into the lab, he found them. Mabel swam about her tank, giggling and twirling about. Electrodes were stuck to her head so she couldn’t twist about too much lest she get tangled. Ford “stood” at the desk. His back paws were planted firmly on the stone ground. His front paws were on the control panel. Two multicolored wings hung at his side.

Mabel stopped her swimming as she spotted Dipper. “Hey, Deerper!”

Dipper’s ear flicked in frustration at the new name. “Hey, Mabel. Hello, Great Uncle Ford!”

The sphynx turned to look at him. “Oh. Hello, Dipper! This strange new disease seems to have changed us all in only two days’ time. This is the fastest transformation spell, curse, or otherwise that I’ve ever seen that isn’t casted directly through a chant. My machines don’t recognize it, either. I’ve been all over Gravity Falls; a stream this close to the lab should have been discovered ages ago. Unless this is a new disease, which is quite likely as I see no immunities in any of us. We can only wait and see if the native residents of Gravity Falls have some sort of immunity that none of us outsiders have.”

He tweaked a few buttons and flipped a few switches. He did not take his eyes off the monitors before him–not even to look at Dipper.

Dipper approached the screens. However, Ford’s tail flicked suddenly. Its puffy tip brushed Dipper’s hooves. The boy bleated and bounded back. He had to grab onto the door way to keep himself from bolting straight into the wall.

Ford whipped around to look at him. “Oh! What happened? Are you hurt?”

Dipper shook his head and forced himself to relax. He glanced at Great Uncle Ford’s giant, fuzzy paws and then looked at his sharp teeth. _No. No! No, get away from him. He’s a LION! Lions eat deer. He’ll eat you. Run. Run! RUN! RUN!!!_ Dipper shook his head and tensed. No! Great Uncle Ford would never hurt him. “I-I’m sorry! I don’t know what happened!”

Ford’s worried expression melted into a frown. “I was afraid this was going to happen. The longer we stay in these forms, the more animalistic we become. You’ve taken on fearful traits of the deer, Dipper. I just hope I don’t become the lion my body had become.” With that, he turned and stalked back to his board of buttons and switches.

Mabel watched him with wide eyes. “What about me?”

“I doubt you’ll change,” Great Uncle Ford stated with a dismissive wave of his paw. “Humans and mermaids are very close in personality.”

Dipper bit his tongue. “What about Grunkle Stan?”

Great Uncle Ford did not answer, at first. “…Stanley is a gargoyle. Gargoyles protect the home and its inhabitants. None of you need to worry about him.”

“What about everyone else?” Mabel prompted. “Will they turn into magical creatures, too?”

“Perhaps,” Great Uncle Ford stated. “Or perhaps nothing will happen. Maybe the inhabitants of Gravity Falls have a natural immunity to this disease.” He took a deep breath. “Alright, Mabel. Come up here. I need to take a bit of blood.” Great Uncle Ford hopped off of his control panel, grabbed a few needles, vials, straps, and bandages in his mouth, and walked over to Mabel’s tank.

Mabel lost her smile. “Oh, uh… What about these things?” Mabel pointed to her head, which was still covered in electrodes.

“It won’t hurt,” Great Uncle Ford soothed. “You’ll feel a little poke. Just stay still for me.” He stopped beside the tank, climbed a small set of stairs, and set down his supplies. “Come here. Hand me your arm.” He waved his paw. Mabel swam over to him and held out one arm. From there, Great Uncle Ford wrapped a blue plastic strap tight around her arm. He poked her arm in a few places with one toe, bit the lid off of a needle, and held it close to her arm. “Shut your eyes and relax,” Great Uncle Ford commanded in a soothing tone. Mabel shut her eyes and took a deep breath. She yelped in pain as the needle slid into her arm. However, almost as soon as the needle was in her arm, it was gone and a vial was filled with greenish red blood. Great Uncle Ford capped the blood vial, threw the used needle in the garbage can, and patted Mabel’s shoulder. “You did very well! I expect that’s the last test I need.” Mabel lowered her head close to Great Uncle Ford so that he could take off the wires connected to her head. “There. Dipper! Are you ready?”

“O-oh! Yeah! Totally. Ready,” Dipper stammered and cleared his throat. Mabel backflipped back into the water as soon as the electrodes were off. Dipper, stiff-legged, crept over to his Great Uncle Ford and sat down. Great Uncle Ford carefully placed each electrode on his head at exact intervals.

 

Dipper helped Mabel out of the basement using a wagon with a cooler full of water. Grunkle Stan paced about the former gift shop. His wings twitched and his stone tail waved back and forth. Dipper immediately bristled upon coming face-to-face with Grunkle Stan so suddenly.

Dipper bleated and scrambled back. However, the ropes tied to his waist kept him from running too far before Grunkle Stan could stop him. The gargoyle kept a hand on Mabel’s fish tank until Dipper calmed enough to stop flailing.

“So, what did my brother say?” Grunkle Stan prompted.

Dipper stretched and turned toward him. “He, uh, still has to look over his tests.”

“Right. Well, Soos and Wendy haven’t come back yet.” Grunkle Stan continued to pace.

Dipper’s ears flicked back. “Ugh! Everyone’s going to turn into monsters and it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have found that stupid stream.”

“Bah.” Grunkle Stan put two fingers to the bridge of his nose. His glasses, which now hardly fit on his face, were pushed up by the action. “I bottled and sold it, kid, not you.”

The door swung open. Wendy and Soos stumbled in, heaving as the breath had been sucked out of them. Wendy set down a single bottle on the counter. Dipper’s heart dropped. “That’s it?”

“Yeah, dude,” Soos answered in a wheeze. “Last one… in store…!”

Grunkle Stan picked up the bottle. “I’ll give this to Ford. You stay here.” With that, he turned and disappeared down the stairs.

Wendy prompted, “Any luck?”

Mabel shrugged and Dipper waved his hand in a so-so manner. “Probably.”

Wendy set a hand on her forehead. “So, when did you two get this magic water?”

Dipper sighed, “Two days ago. The day before Stan started selling it.”

“Okay.” Wendy took a deep breath and straightened out of her tired slouch. “Well, what now?”

Dipper bit his tongue. Mabel’s grin came back in earnest. “Let’s go to the lake!”

“But-” Dipper started.

“Lake! Lake! Lake!” Mabel chanted.

Dipper wrung his hands. “Wouldn’t everyone else be freaked out by us being magical monsters?”

Mabel waved her hand. “Nah. We’ll be in the water, remember? Come on! Please?” She tipped her head and set her cheek on the rim of her cooler.

Dipper groaned and clopped toward the door. “Fine.”

Mabel squealed and flipped back in her cooler. She managed to splash some water on the floor. Otherwise, she stayed nice and stable in her cooler.

Wendy smirked and held out a pair of keys for Dipper. “Don’t hit any pedestrians.”

Dipper was nearly out the door when–“Dipper!”

The cervataur fawn jumped and looked back. Great Uncle Ford stalked out from behind the snack machine. A book bag was thrown over his shoulders. He had two pairs of shoulders, now, right? Well, one strap ran behind his wing but that didn’t matter! Not right now. Wendy Soos gasped. Dipper didn’t look back at them.

Great Uncle Ford sighed. “You’re going to have to show me where this water is. I don’t have it in my notes and these blood samples are… interesting. Now, what were you doing?”

“I was, uh… looking for the plaidapus.” Dipper sighed in defeat. “And, uh, I found it–the water, I mean.”

Great Uncle Ford didn’t even blink in reciprocation to Dipper’s embarrassed stumbling. “Lead the way.”

Dipper pocketed the keys in his jacket and left the house. Mabel, still connected to the wagon on his back, splashed her tail and giggled as water splashed on her face. As soon as Dipper left the house and entered the woods, a calmness fell over him. His heartrate slowed to a normal rhythm. He took a breath and sighed. The outside air was _much_ better than the air inside. Why didn’t he discover this sooner?

So wrapped up in his thoughts was he, he forgot that Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford were behind him. He nearly forgot that he was looking for the stream. Even though he was hardly paying attention to the mission at hand, and instead focused on the forest beauty around him, he managed to find it. Dipper stopped by the perfect stream. The water glittered oh so tantalizingly over the rounded rocks. No plant life or algae or animals disrupted the gurgling water.

Great Uncle Ford walked around him to inspect the stream. “Hmm… interesting. I remember this river.” He dipped a small cup in the water to fill it halfway and tasted it. “Odd… it doesn’t taste like water. What did you say it tasted like?”

“Candy,” Dipper answered.

“Ice cream!” Mabel said at the same time.

“Toffee,” Grunkle Stan stated at the same time as the two kids.

“Hmm… this water must have some sort of virus that uses very good flavor as an essential element to spread its disease. I did not drink this water, I only touched it. But Waddles drank the rest of the water in that bottle. He’s still a pig. It must only effect people.” Ford quickly took out his journal, fitted with loose papers on top and a pen. He tried using his paws to write, but the pen kept falling out of his grasp. Embarrassed and frustrated, he took the pen in his mouth and scratched down a few notes.

Grunkle Stan prompted, “So, what? It’s the flu?”

Great Uncle Ford nodded and set down his pen to speak. “That’s my current theory. I’ll need to conduct further testing.” Once he finished off his scribbles, he put away his things and got back up. “That should be it for right now. At least I know where the water’s coming from.” Great Uncle Ford turned to Stanley. “Control the crowd you’re about to bring on us.” With that, he swept off, bag around his neck and tail flicking back and forth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talk about fun! Mabel takes things positively. She's a positive person and tries to find the best out of every situation. Mabel's the kind of person I went to be. ;-; Dipper the less positive and more paranoid person who takes things at face value and sometimes worse.  
> This is really fun! :D I can't wait to start writing more in depth about their symptoms...


	4. ...The Storm

The next Day, Wendy came back, just as mellow and subdued as usual. Soos had come in before her. The Mystery Shack was not open, there were no chores to be done. Still, it was natural in a time of crisis to come back to the old Shack with its weird inhabitants.

They had just started talking about lunch when it happened.

Wendy gasped and leaned on the door, a hand to her heart. Dipper turned his head, ears flicked forward. “Wendy? Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah.” Wendy gulped, shutting her eyes. “I-I’m fi… no. No I’m not fine.” Her eyes shot open and she shook visibly. “Oh my God.”

Mabel’s smile vanished in an instant. “Wendy! Calm down!”

“I-I’m turning into a monster, Mabel!”

“I know.” Mabel set her gaze. “You’re going to turn into a monster. So let it happen. I did and I turned out alright! See!” She flipped her tail up. “I lost both my legs and it didn’t hurt at all! Come on, Wendy.”

Dipper looked at Mabel. “That’s… you know, I changed when I was asleep. Yeah, just relax, Wendy! It’ll be fine!” Dipper’s own voice shook.

Wendy nodded. She slumped to her knees, one hand on her chest and the other on the door jam. However, she took a few deep breaths and slowly relaxed. Auburn fur sprouted and grew over her body. Her shoes and pants tore as her legs and feet lengthened and her nails became claws. A wolf tail fell behind her. Wendy set a trembling hand on her face, which elongated and grew into a snout peppered with sharp teeth.

Within hardly a minute, the newest monster was kneeling on the floor, taking deep breaths and gripping her head in her hands. The werewolf blinked and looked up. “I… wh-what am I?” She let go of herself and looked over her claw-tipped, fuzzy hands.

Soos spoke up, “A werewolf! Right?”

“Yeah!” Mabel grinned. “You’re a werewolf, Wendy! Hmm… werewolf, Wendy… WereWendy!”

Dipper groaned, but Wendy and Soos both laughed.

It was not too much longer before Soos changed. His hair shrunk into nonexistence and his skin thinned in physicality until it was nothing more than warm clay. Mabel screamed and hid in her cooler. When Soos tried to calm her, he spoke an entirely different language. It took a while, but Mabel was coaxed out of her shivering bundle and Soos was able to switch back to speaking English, as long as he concentrated.

 

Days after Dipper discovered the stream, people all over town were turning into monsters. The Pines’ condition no longer needed to be kept a secret as person after person succumbed to the curse. In fact, monsters had started turning human as well. They had a very irate man with a rather large beard banging on the Mystery Shack door, claiming his name to be Beardy and to bring “Dipper the Distruc-taur” out to talk to them.

While Great Uncle Ford stayed his lab day and night, only eating when forced and sleeping when too exhausted to keep his eyes open, Grunkle Stan stayed up top lying and soothing the crowd that had been drawn.

Mabel, quickly growing bored out of her mind with her limited mobility, whined and groaned until someone–Dipper–took her out in a mobile water cooler. The cooler was modified with larger wheels and shafts like a small carriage. Leather straps connected Dipper to the cooler in such a way that it was comfortable and easy to pull. At the same time, Dipper didn’t feel like tugging Mabel everywhere _she_ wanted to go. So, trips to the lake became a daily occurrence. Her friends, now semi-aquatic, got to visit here there and any thought of going to town was lost.

Meanwhile, whenever Dipper wasn’t carting Mabel around, he was trying to understand himself. “Dipper!” Great Uncle Ford had called him the night people came in sick. “Could you do me a favor?”

“Of course.”

“Study the people of Gravity Falls and tell me what’s happening to them. I can only do so much down here. Getting their behavioral differences would help me, all of us, more than you can imagine.”

So, that’s just was Dipper did.

Dipper, a notebook in hand, walked through the town. Robbie, after a few attempts at shoving him off, stated that he liked brains. He also liked eating twelve-year-olds. He also told Dipper to get a move on before he ate _his_ brains. Robbie was a zombie. Mr. McGucket had gone off crowing about how he didn’t like moving too much of late and how much he loathed birds. Every once in a while, he’d stop moving for no good reason. Dipper would have to squawk like a bird to get him talking again. He’d been turned into a scarecrow.

As he moved about the streets, desperately learning everything he could and relaying his research to Great Uncle Ford at the end each day, people would spurn him. Dipper was the first to find the stream. Therefore, it was his fault they were all cursed. At first, Dipper could handle it. These people were hurt and frustrated. Most were willing to tell him their symptoms, especially after they were told it could help find the cure.

Then, the meat stores went low.

In Gravity Falls, supply and demand was pretty consistent. There were a few farmers who made enough food for the town in addition to the imported foods and sweets. Everyone was on their own regular diet with their own regular grocery lists. But, as many people shifted from an omnivorous diet to a carnivorous, the supply of meat was running low.

“You know what would be better for all of us?”

Dipper winced upon hearing the old lady behind him.

“If you had never meddled with that spooky forest in the first place!”

Finally, as Dipper trudged home after interviewing every person in town willing to be interviewed, Mabel stopped him. “Dipper?”

“Yeah, Mabel?”

Mabel frowned at the dejected tone he’d taken. “Come on, bro-bro. You’ve been working all week! You _need_ to relax!”

“I need to help find this cure!” Dipper contradicted. “Great Uncle Ford said that if he understood how everyone reacted based on what they turned into, it would make understanding and curing the disease way easier!”

Mabel pouted. “Well you _obviously_ got to talk to a lot of people. I’m sure he’d understand if you took a break. You need it! Look at you! You look like a vampire! And not the cute kind.”

“Dipper, she’s right.”

Dipper jumped and looked up. Stanford padded out of the kitchen. “I’m sorry, Dipper. I really shouldn’t have put so much pressure on you. The information you’ve given me has done wonders, but I agree with Mabel. You need to take a break.”

Dipper nodded. “Okay, Great Uncle Ford. Hey, uh, I got to talk to a few more people. Here.” He took out his notes and presented them to his great uncle, who took them in his mouth and set them in his bag.

“Thank you! These notes you took are amazing. Now, Stanley’s just finished dinner. You deserve dinner and a good night’s rest.” With that, he turned around, activated the vending machine, and walked into his lab.

“Hey, kids!” Grunkle Stan’s voice came from the kitchen. “Get over here! Dinner’s ready!”

*          *          *          *          *

Dipper paced around the yard. He didn’t look where he went. Some weird instinct told his feet where to go so he didn’t run into anyone. Wendy, the only other person in the yard, stood by the gift shop door and chucked a pine cone on the sneakily placed target on the totem pole. Then, she put a hand to her head. “Ugh.” She dropped the pine cone and shut her eyes.

Dipper stopped and turned to her. “Are you okay?”

Wendy stared ahead of her. “I… don’t know. I, uh… you’re not going to call me crazy, are you?”

Dipper shook his head. “N-no! No, uh, of course not.”

“I have this voice in the back of my head,” Wendy admitted. “But it’s not like a _voice,_ voice. It’s just like… like a conscience. But it’s, uh, not a _good_ conscience.”

“Oh! I, uh, have something like that.” Dipper grinned.

Wendy turned to him, ears flicked forward. “Really? So, what’s it, uh, like?”

“It tells me to run away,” Dipper mumbled.

Wendy flattened her ears. “Do you, uh, listen to it?”

Dipper shook his head. “No, not really.”

She sighed and bared her teeth in a doggy smile. “Oh, good. I don’t, either.”

“What does it tell you to do?”

Wendy picked up the pine cone she’d dropped. “It tells me to eat things.” She chucked it at the totem pole. It hit a bullseye. She picked up another. “But, like, not pizza or anything. Like, animals.” She pulled her lips back. “Like, squirrels and raccoons and d–stuff.”

“Oh. Well, uh, at least you don’t listen to it!” Dipper laughed, pushing down the fear _his_ instinct was trying to push on him. “I mean, that would be kinda awkward. Heh. So, uh, you want something to eat or something? Like, we could go out. As, uh, friends and pick up some pizza or something.” Dipper stumbled over his words and eventually just shut his mouth.

Wendy laughed and chucked another pine cone. Another direct hit. “Nah, man. It’s cool.” She winced and flicked one of her ears. “It’s just weird. It’s like, really loud, now. Can consciences be loud?”

“Well, Grunkle Stan cons people of their money all the time, so they can probably be quieter.”

This drew a laugh from her. “Dude!” She chucked another pine cone. Her accuracy had not faltered. “Yeah. You know, I should probably grab a soda. You want one?”

“Sure!” Dipper abandoned his pacing to follow her.

“I know where he hides them outside.” Wendy smirked at him before approaching the couch. Dipper hopped onto the wooden porch and watched as she fished under the couch. Her ears flicked back, and she tensed. “D-Dipper? Is that you?”

Dipper nodded slowly. “Uh, yeah. It’s just us out here.”

“Just us?” Wendy stood up and spun around so fast Dipper bleated and took a step back. When Dipper nodded in confirmation, she bit her lip. “What about Mr. Pines? Or, uh, the other Mr. Pines? Mabel? Soos?”

“Great Uncle Ford is in his lab. Uh, Grunkle Stan went with Mabel to the lake. Soos isn’t in the Shack.” Dipper shrugged.

Wendy put a hand on her muzzle. She smiled. “Heh. Uh, yeah. Uh, why don’t you, uh, go ask your great uncle about, um, the research! Yeah, how that’s going on! And about the conscience thing!” Wendy bared more teeth in a grin and nodded. “And, uh, shut the door behind you or something? Heh. You don’t, uh, want bugs getting through the door or anything.”

Dipper took a step forward. “Wendy, you’re acting really strange.”

Wendy held up a hand. “I am? I mean, what? Who? Me? Just, uh… mind asking him? Probably now?”

“Okay.” Dipper stepped back and opened the door. Just as he went inside, he heard a whine. Dipper turned around, but didn’t go outside.

On the porch, Wendy held her mouth shut with both paws. She whined and shivered as if sick or hurt. Her watery eyes were shut tight. “I don’t want to, don’t. No, I’m not gunna.” The words barely made it out of her mouth. Dipper didn’t speak. Instead, he started to back off. Great Uncle Ford would know what to do. She was hurt, she had to be. Maybe it was just a head ache and Great Uncle Ford knew something about monster headaches or something?

Then, her whimpering ceased.

Dipper opened the door. She wasn’t there. Confused, Dipper walked out onto the porch. “Wendy? Are you okay?”

Behind the couch, wide green eyes watching him, was Wendy. Her pupils had dilated so that they nearly blotted out the color of her irises. She watched him with the intensity of a hunting wolf.

Dipper’s ear flicked back as he heard her back paws shift on the wood. He looked back. “Wendy! There you–Wendy?”

 _Get out of there! She’s crazy! Get out, get out! She’s going to eat you!_ Dipper shook off the stupid voice in the back of his head. Wendy wouldn’t hurt him. She was a she-wolf, sure, but she was also his best friend. But that look in her eyes…

Wendy crept over the arm of the couch. Every tooth she had was bared. A low growl shuttered through her throat and escaped her gleaming teeth. She crept onto the couch, her eyes never leaving his.

“W-Wendy?” Dipper took a few steps back on the porch and held up his hands. “Wendy, calm down! It’s okay! Uh, just, fight it! Whatever it is! You don’t want to eat animals, right? We can have pizza and Pitt Cola and, uh, throw pine cones at that target you made!” As he spoke, she stepped forward. As she stepped forward, he stepped back. “It’s me: Dipper! You’re best friend! Grunkle Stan’s great nephew! Remember me? I came here for the summer! We worked at the Mystery Shack together!” Dipper’s back leg no longer felt wood. He couldn’t back off any longer without stepping off the porch and unbalancing himself.

Wendy barked and launched herself from the couch. Dipper screamed and flipped himself over. After some mad scramble, he was off. Wendy pursued him, teeth flashing, eyes wild and claws tearing at the ground Dipper raced over.

 _The forest! The forest! You can lose her!_ For once, Dipper didn’t ignore his instincts. He bolted into the woods. Wendy, running on all fours, was still hot on his heels. Her jaws snapped inches away from his hind legs. Dipper made a ninety degree turn so hard that when Wendy attempted to do the same, she barreled into a tree. This only shook her off for a moment before she got on her feet and continued the chase. _The lake, you’re family’s there. She’ll be scared off._ Dipper changed direction again. The lake, he had to go to the lake. Mabel and Stan were there. They could help! They could get Wendy off his tail!

Wendy’s teeth snapped close to his back hoof as he brought it forward for another bound. Without thinking, Dipper lashed out at her.

_Arrup!_

Dipper gasped and stopped himself. Wendy attempted an abrupt stop–as the force of Dipper’s kick threw her head back but her body kept moving forward–but overcompensated and ended up tumbling. Dipper side stepped her. “Oh my gosh! Wendy! Are you alright?”

Wendy sat up and put a paw on her muzzle. “Fffft! Ow. Ow, yep.” She blinked open her watery eyes. Her pupils were back to their original size. Her muzzle was torn by Dipper’s hoof, so it bled a bit. “Where am I…?” She looked up at Dipper and gasped. “Oh my gosh! I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Dipper shook his head. “Um, no. What just happened?”

“I dunno.” Wendy got up to her feet and patted her head. Her hat had flown off in the chase, as had Dipper’s. “I was standing outside of the Shack. I… really, really, _really_ felt like eating you. I didn’t want to. But then, all of the sudden, I just sorta… blacked out. But not like, blacked out, blacked out. I remember seeing the forest and seeing something brown and blue. It was the most important thing in the world for me. I felt like I was starving and… and…” She shook her head. “I think I need to go home.”

“A-are you sure, um, you don’t want to ask Great Uncle Ford if he can do anything? He’s studied werewolves before.”

Wendy’s ears flicked forward. “Yeah, he has.”

“At least you snapped out of it,” Dipper offered as they made the trek back out of the forest. “I’m sorry about your nose, by the way.”

“Don’t be.” Wendy had let go of her hurt muzzle. It wasn’t bleeding anymore. “I just… I was crazy. I hope it doesn’t happen again. It won’t happen again.” Wendy nodded firmly. “Yeah.”

“Yeah!” Dipper grinned a hopeful grin. “No curse can bring you down, right?”

“Right!” Wendy bared her teeth in a smile. “This is a one-time thing. I can stop myself next time.”

 

“So, you went unconscious? Interesting.” Great Uncle Ford stood in the parlor. Wendy sat in a chair before him. A bandage was over her muzzle like a cast. The parlor was decorated with machines and equipment, now, instead of party supplies. Dipper sat next to Wendy. “And what were you feeling before the attack?”

Wendy rubbed her arm. “Well, I felt really hungry. I felt like eating… eating Dipper.” She shut her eyes. The very words seemed to pain her.

“It’s alright. It wasn’t your fault,” he reassured her and looked down at his notes. “This is probably just a side-effect of the curse.” He flipped through a few pages. “I myself have been feeling a bit odd lately. Thankfully nothing serious. I’ll have to take this up with everyone else. Dipper! Have you been feeling symptoms like this?”

Dipper shrugged. “Maybe. I mean, um, I feel really scared when I’m around you guys, sometimes. It’s like my body is trying to make me run away. But I’ve never blacked out.”

Stanford nodded. “Interesting. So, these symptoms must be stronger in some than others.”

“Will I do it again?” Wendy blurted out.

Stanford didn’t answer at first. “…perhaps. We are all so early in the stages of this virus that I can’t be certain of its full effects.” He sat up straight. “Well, I’ll look over this more closely. When Stanley comes back, could either of you two tell him to visit me? I need to speak with him.” With that, he got up, picked up his clipboard in his mouth by a wooden edge, and walked out.

Wendy put a hand on her forehead. “Oh, man.”

“It’s okay, Wendy. Come on! I’m sure you can, uh, fight it!” Dipper nodded.

Wendy attempted a smile. “Yeah, I hope so. Thanks, Dipper. You still up for pizza?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought Wendy would be a good one to start out with the "symptoms". All of them have "voices" in their heads, telling them how to be/how they need to be the monsters that they've become. The only people without "voices" would be ones who are very human, like mermaids.
> 
> Also, I found out recently that sphinxes were depicted as women. >w>


	5. Runaway

Wendy was the first person to “go wild” as it was dubbed. No one had been gravely injured in town, which was great. But that didn’t mean tensions weren’t rising.

Dipper walked around the gift shop. He could hear people within the Shack. They were calm, joking even. But Dipper could feel the anxiety. No one said anything, but he knew what they were thinking. _“Am I next?”_ Wendy had taken to bringing around a piece of jerky to chew on wherever she went. Whenever Dipper saw her, she had a piece of jerky or bark or something stuck in her mouth like one of those cowboys holding a piece of grass in their teeth.

So lost in thought was he that Dipper didn’t hear the vending machine open behind him. Stanford stalked out, the bags under his eyes more pronounced and his paws dragging soundlessly against the floor. He perked up upon seeing Dipper. “Hey, Dipper.” Stanford cut himself off with a wide yawn.

Dipper jumped, not for the first time startled by a voice from behind him. But, as he turned around and saw those giant, sharp teeth bared in a yawn behind him… something in Dipper changed.

**_Run_.**

He bleated and bolted. Before he knew what was happening, he burst through the door and rocketed into the woods. Dipper tried to shake himself of this sudden disastrous line of thinking–which was actually no thinking at all–but all he could see was those big teeth and massive paws. A thousand ways everything could go wrong with having a giant predator behind him flashed through his mind, fueled greatly with his latest chase by Wendy. What if that happened to Stanford? He could outrun Wendy. She was smaller with dull claws and sharp teeth and a muzzle that could be hit. But Great Uncle Ford was a _lion_ with _wings_ and a flat face. What if Fipper tried hitting him in the forehead and got his eye? A simple run for his own life would lead Stanford permanently crippled!

Once he was far, far away from the Shack and the monsters within, Dipper cantered to a halt. Breathing heavily, Dipper slowly lay down by the foot of a rather large oak. Dipper shut his eyes and set a hand to his head. “Okay. Okay, this is fixable. I couldn’t have gone far. Where am I, anyway?”

Dipper looked at his surroundings. He didn’t recognize these gorgeous trees or the fluffy brush. He didn’t recognize the branches overhead that intertwined into a lush, beautiful canopy. The spots of light and dark that filtered through the leaves dappled the ground, the brush, the trunks of trees, and Dipper’s pelt. A rabbit slowly crept out of a bush nearby. As it smelled no danger, it quietly foraged through the forest floor for food to eat. In the distance, he could smell a small deer heard grazing happily on the greenery.

Slowly, Dipper got up and walked away. The rabbit didn’t even flinch when Dipper’s hoof came within a few inches of it.

After a few steps, Dipper could feel a strong breeze. Just past the tree line, he realized, was the valley. He now stood atop one of the cliffs that overlooked Gravity Falls. Dipper felt no fear up here. Despite being so far up, he could feel nothing but… tranquility. The thought of staying flashed through his mind. He could stay here… eat all he wanted… stay with the heard. He could stay calm, at peace, in no danger.

Dipper shook the thought. No, he had to go home.

As potent as nature’s siren call was, he turned and walked. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t recognize anything. He had been too careful to leave an obvious trail. Some part of Dipper knew where to go. Some part of Dipper, the bad part that told him to run, knew where home lay. It knew how to get home. So, Dipper shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and followed his instinct.

Fifteen minutes later, Dipper was hopping through familiar territory.

The Shack was busy. Stanford stalked the outside, sniffing at the ground and cursing himself. Soos lumbered around inside. Stanley, Mabel, and Wendy were gone.

Dipper perked up and bounded into the yard. “Great Uncle Ford!”

Stanford’s attention snapped to Dipper. “Dipper! There you are! Oh thank–where did you go? How did you find your way back? Soos! Call Stanley and Wendy back!”

Dipper grinned and raced to his great uncle. “Great Uncle Ford! I found out how to get home! I-I got scared and that voice that tells me to run took over. Then I ran and ran, and I ended up over there!” He pointed vaguely to the cliff. “It was then that I realized: I couldn’t go home. So, I needed to rely on my instincts. They brought me back. And I know how to run! I don’t wobble when I move around anymore. I figured out to get used to my body, Great Uncle Ford!”

Stanford grinned. “That’s amazing news, Dipper! I’ll have to record this. So, you found your way back home from the cliff?” He twitched is tail in a vague indication of the cliff. “By following that instinct. The one that told you to go there in the first place?”

Dipper nodded. “Yep! It’s kinda complicated, but I think it’s something to do with finding a way to balance out working with and working against it.”

Stanford walked back with him to the Shack. “That sounds very interesting. I myself have no idea how to fly or run with grace.” He fluttered his wings. “But if what you say is true about _all_ of us, I might change that.”

“So, where is everyone?”

“Stanley went to town. Wendy followed your trail. She has an extraordinary sense of smell. Wendy’s hitched up to Mabel’s cart. Soos was just asking around town.”

“Dude!” Soos ambled out of the Shack, grinning ear-to-ear. “You’re back!”

“Yeah! Soos!” Dipper laughed and bounded up to his friend. Man, even after running that much, he felt like he had the energy to run all the to California and back!

Wendy rushed out of the forest on all fours. Mabel held onto the lip of her water cooler, yelping as a wheel would hit something and the entire thing would bounce or shutter. Wendy stopped in the yard and stood up on her hind legs. “Dipper, dude!”

“Dipper!” Mabel squealed. “You’re okay!”

Dipper walked up to them. He didn’t even flinch at Wendy’s presence. “Yeah! And I think I got a way to control my fear! Sorta!”

Wendy and Soos were not at all hesitant to tell their families and friends about what Dipper had done. The spite Dipper had felt was aimed toward him lessened as people were given a base to work on in controlling themselves.

Of course, nothing was going to change after just one day.

 

Dipper, nose in his book, walked through the gift shop door of the Mystery Shack. His ears twitched as he scanned the room with his nose and ears while keeping his eyes and conscious attention on his book. Grunkle Stan had been through here recently with Wendy. Mabel’s tank rolled through here. She should probably change water. Soos hadn’t been here in a while. Ford currently lay in front of the vending machine.

Dipper stopped and lifted his head. Stanford lay on his belly with all four legs tucked under him and tail curled around him. His wings stayed pinned to his sides. He stared at his own reflection in the vending machine with the intensity of a hunting cat. Dipper stopped moving altogether. His tail and ears flicked up and his heartbeat sped up.

“Dipper Pines.”

Dipper stared at him. “Wh-what? Are you okay Great Uncle Ford?”

“Answer me,” Ford went on in a monotone voice. “What has rivers with no water, land with no dirt, mountains with no stone, and forests with no trees?”

Dipper thought for a moment. “Er… I don’t know.”

Ford’s ears flicked back, and his eyes turned up so that he looked at Dipper in the reflective glass. “Wrong answer.” In an instant, Ford was on his feet. He whipped around and growled at Dipper, ears flicked back, tail whipping back and forth, and gargantuan claws digging into the wood. Dipper dropped the book with a scream and bounded away. Ford took after him. Dipper, his fight-or-flight sense jammed in the “flight” position, leaped over the Bottomless Pit. He spanned the fifteen-foot gap with ease. Hopefully Ford couldn’t–Stanford cleared the Pit with ease. He didn’t even need to use his wings.

Dipper bolted through the pine and birch woods that surrounded the Shack. His hooves flew over the ground with a mind of their own. He only concentrated on going faster and expanding the gap between him and his great uncle. Through the painfully fast beating of his heart and the hissing of branches that whipped past him, he could hear his pursuer. The massive body behind him cleared feet of ground with each bound. Dipper could feel the heat of the sphinx’s breath on his ankles.

Dipper landed on a root and tensed in preparation for a rather large jump over rougher ground. The sphinx’s forepaws lashed out. Dipper’s back legs were swiped out from under him just as they extended. Dipper launched himself over the brush and roots but, due to his imbalance, tumbled through the leaves and branches. He landed on his back. The shock alone caused him to freeze. He bleated as a six-toed paw slammed down on his chest.

Dipper shut his eyes and struck with all his might. The paw retracted with a strangled hiss. The awful stench of blood rushed into him. The hot, sticky liquid dribbled down one of his back hooves. Dipper flipped himself over and ran, kicking up leaves and dabbing the molded brush in red. Stanford, a paw over his nose, did not pursue him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you might recall this chase scene with Dipper and Ford. ;)
> 
> Anyway, I'm having a lot of fun with this. How does everyone react? What makes them react? Is there a way to stop them? How do they feel and why? I'm a sadist, I'm sorry. Things are at an all time low, but that's the thing about lows. Once you get to a certain point, there's no way but up!


	6. Trick Question

Stanley crouched up in the rafters. He watched as his brother paced the floor. “Stanley! Where are you?” he called. Ink smudged his cheek. Stanley forced himself not to laugh. Of everything his brother could do, writing with his mouth was not one!

Stanley took out a little pen-like device and pointed its red tip down. A red dot appeared on the ground. Stanford looked down at the glowing dot and scoffed. “Really, Stanley!” His tail flicked back and forth in irritation. Stanley flicked the light back and forth. “Would you stop that?” Stanford growled. However, his feline ears had flicked forward and his tail whipped back and forth. The light was jerked away. Stanford raced after it. His paw slammed down onto the wood where the dot was. The light escaped him. The chase began.

Stanley put a hand over his mouth as he watched his hypnotized brother chase a little dot of light around the gift shop. The light landed on the wall. Stanford launched himself up and slammed both paws into the wall. Currently, he stood up on his tip toes, tail whipping and wings spread wide. He lifted his paw. The light was gone. It flickered beneath him. It flicked to the opposite side of the room. Stanford crashed through a box of knick-knacks. Stanley turned off the laser pointer and put it away.

Stanford got up and shook himself. He looked about, hesitated, and then stalked off to his lab with his head down, ears flat, and cheeks red. Stanley hid a snicker so that Stanford couldn’t hear him.

Dipper walked into the shop just then, a notebook in his hands. Stanley patted the wood so that Dipper could hear him inside the room before jumping down. “Hey, kid! Whatcha got?”

Dipper sighed. “I was out looking for a freshwater stream. You know, one not contaminated. Mabel and I worked together. We couldn’t find one! The stream goes on for miles!” He threw his hands up. “Ugh! There’s nothing else to drink but lake water! You know, we saw how Great Uncle Ford drank that water after he had been turned and it didn’t hurt him. But Mabel said she felt gross after swimming around in it for a while. So, it’s not like we can keep drinking _that._ ” His ears flicked forward. “So, what are _you_ doing? Did you guys find anything else?”

 _You guys._ Now that Stanley had the ability to sense magic, and he had two thumbs, Stanford was constantly calling him down to his lab. Now that he was constantly being called down to his brother’s nerd-cave, the kids took it two different ways. Mabel squealed a mosquito squeal and watched them with starry eyes while Dipper took it as them being lab partners. _“More like a lab-assistant replacement,”_ Stanley had muttered to himself on more than one occasion. “Nope.” Stanley shrugged. “Sixer’s been down there all day.” A thought popped into his head. “Why’d he stop looking for you, anyway?”

Dipper’s ears flicked back. “What? He did? Uh… I dunno.”

Stanley could hardly stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Honestly, kid. You’ve been avoiding each other like the plague.” His look of slight annoyance darkened. Wendy was avoiding Dipper more often, too. “He didn’t try to kill you, did he?”

“No!” Dipper shook his head and held his hands out in front of himself. “No, really! I–he–it was an accident! Nobody got hurt, I swear! Er–he _didn’t_ try to kill me.” The boy didn’t even believe his own words.

Dipper must have seen the look on his face as he went on, “It wasn’t his fault, okay? He just–just–Great Uncle Ford didn’t mean it. I walked in here yesterday and he was just staring at the vending machine all alone because no one else was here. He asked me this weird riddle and when I said I didn’t know it he chased me away. But he didn’t want to.”

“Yeah, of course not.” Stanley jerked his head to the vending machine. “Well, I’m off again.”

“Bye, Grunkle Stan!” Dipper smiled and relaxed. “Here! I took notes and everything you guys might need.”

“Course. Thanks, kid.” Stanley took the notebook from the boy as he walked through the vending machine door. The sooner they got over this dumb flu, the better.

In the lab, Stanford was laying down, back to Stanley, staring at the pile of books and research before him. His paws were tucked under him and he stared, unseeing, at the books. “Uh… Ford?”

The sphinx’s ears perked up. He turned around. Stanley couldn’t see the color of his eyes through his dilated pupils. “Stanley Pines,” he stated, turning around so that he was sitting facing Stanley, tail over his paws.

“Uh… you okay?”

Stanford went on in a monotone voice, either not hearing Stanley or ignoring his words. “Answer me this. There are two sisters: one gives birth to the other and she, in turn, gives birth to the first. Who are the two sisters?”

Stanley stared at him. “What?”

Stanford flicked is ear and repeated the question.

“Uh… I dunno. What?”

Stanford’s eyes narrowed, and he flicked his ears back. “Wrong answer,” he growled. Stanley hardly had time to react before his brother launched himself at him.

There was no space to fight in the tight corridor, especially now that they had wings and tails. Still, Stanley had been in tight situations before. Then again, he’d never fought a large cat with brightly colored wings.

Stanley kicked Stanford off and scrambled to his feet. “Calm down, Ford! What the hell’s wrong with you?” Stanford didn’t answer. Instead, he swiped at Stanley, running his claws over his brother’s arm and chest. His claws, long and sharp and thick, immediately drew blood. For a while, Stanley shoved Stanford back and warded him away with his wings. When they inevitably stumbled into the dreaded portal room, Stanley dodged him. But this couldn’t last, not unless Stanley wanted to lose every bit of skin he had.

Stanford hissed and pounced on Stanley, digging his claws into the man’s arms and flapping his wings in an attempt to disorient him. Stanley turned around and, using momentum and his naturally heavy body to his advantage, pinned Stanford to the metal floor. Stanford screeched and squirmed but was unable to throw off Stanley.

“Snap out of it!” Stanley snapped. Stanford hissed at him. “You’re smarter than this! Snap out of it!” Stanford growled, baring every tooth he could. Normally, Stanley might have been intimidated by such a sight. But he’d seen it before, albeit with smaller, squarer teeth.

Stanley snorted and glared at him. “Stanford Filbrick Pines! You are my sixty-three-year-old twin brother. You’re working on a cure for this stupid disease. We were born together in New Jersey. You went to some stupid backwater school and then came here and built this dumb portal. You went crazy and I pushed you into the portal. I’ve been trying to get you back for thirty years. Now I finally have and you better start acting like it!”

Stanford hissed, though this time it had nothing behind it. For a while, Stanford stared at him. He had long since stopped clawing and struggling. Now, as he listened to Stanley speak and took a few breaths, he relaxed. Stanford blinked, confused, and shook his head. His pupils had contracted and were back to normal. He looked around. “Where am–Stanley? Why are you holding me down?”

Stanley let go of him and stood up, wincing as he moved his arm the wrong way. “Well you just tried to kill me.”

Stanford, who’d been getting up, froze. “I-I what?” He looked over Stanley with wide eyes. Now that they weren’t moving and in the heat of battle, it was much easier to see the damage. Stanley’s clothes had been ripped apart and now his shirt hung in tatters. Long, deep red marks swelling with thick beads of blood peppered his body. Stanford had gotten a nasty scratch on his shoulder, but was otherwise fine. “I did that?” he managed to choke out.

Stanley looked down at himself. “Yeah, well, you weren’t thinkin’ straight.”

Stanford looked down at his bloody paws. “I-I could’ve killed you.”

Stanley huffed and waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “Don’t give yourself so much credit, Poindexter. Nothin’ can take me down.”

Stanford swallowed and shook his head. “All the same… I don’t understand. Why is this happening?!” He put a wet paw to his head. “Why am I like this?”

Stanley sighed and then looked at his arm. “Huh. Wouldja look at that.” One of the deep claw marks he’d received was no longer bleeding. “Is this super healin’ or something?”

Stanford perked up and looked over his arm and then the cuts on his chest and sides. He looked at his bloody paw. “You should be much worse for wear right now if I have this much blood on me.” He shivered and went on, “You must have some ability to heal very quickly.”

“See?” Stanley grinned and let his arm fall to his side. “Couldn’t take me down if you tried! Now this shirt on the other hand…”

Stanford sighed and limped back to his lab. Oh. Maybe that scratch on his shoulder wasn’t so dandy after all. “I’ve gone nowhere in my research. Unless you have any news?”

Grunkle Stan pulled out Dipper’s notebook and walked after him. “There’s no fresh water around here.”

Stanford groaned. “That’s what I was afraid of.” He sat down at his control panel. “Say, what happened? How did I snap out of it?”

Stanley shrugged. “Meh. I told you to snap out of it and tried to ‘remind you of who you were’ or whatever.”

“That’s interesting. Very useful.” Stanford took out some of his notes and then sighed as he failed to write in it. “Could you help me with this?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blame [this](http://laur-rants.tumblr.com/post/122991195442/randumbdaze-randumbdaze-randumbdaze-ok-but) for the beginning of the chapter, and [this place](http://goodriddlesnow.com/what-am-i-riddles) for that awful riddle. Also, if anyone wants to take a guess at what the answer is, go ahead! :)
> 
> Grunkle Stan chapter~! Too bad it was this. *shrugs* Oh well. You win some, you lose some. Also, I had to add the minor gore warning 'cause you can't take a big cat to the face and come back unscathed. Actually, you can't take on any angry cat of any size and come out unscathed. Cats are amazing animals.


	7. Sing with Me

Dipper tugged at the harness around his deer waist and chest. The leather straps were wide and smooth, though the insides were slightly fuzzy. With the weight distributed so evenly along his body, the straps didn’t hurt. The large area the cart was spread over as well as the smoothness of wheels _and_ the momentum made Mabel in her watercooler full of water and the small crate partially filled with notebooks infinitely easier to pull. Still, that didn’t mean he _liked_ tugging her around.

Mabel shifted about and watched as her tail waved back and forth. “Grunkle Ford? Why does my tail move?”

Great Uncle Ford, who led their small party, didn’t look back. “Fish need to move constantly to stay breathing. It’s helping you breath.”

Mabel looked at Dipper. “Why does _Dipper’s_ tail move?”

Great Uncle Ford answered in the same level voice, “It depends on how he’s feeling. Deer move their tails when they’re nervous or agitated. He has nothing to worry about.”

Dipper nodded and looked down to his coat. His tail twitched so that it stood up and bared the brilliant white fur under it. He could _hear_ the creatures of the forest move. There were mountain lions about, surely. His gaze flicked to Great Uncle Ford. He’s was probably bigger than any mountain lion there.

“Why does _your_ tail move a lot?”

“Big cat tails don’t move too much. But it’s more of a reflex than anything,” Great Uncle Ford answered. His tail tip flicked slowly back and forth. Great Uncle Ford smothered a smile as he looked back at Mabel and answered her inevitable next question. “Stanley’s a gargoyle; whatever he does, he does on purpose–most of the time.”

Mabel giggled and flipped back into her water cooler. “Are we there yet?”

“No,” Great Uncle Ford answered. “We will be, soon. When we’re there,” he looked back at the two children and two teens that traveled with him, “We stay in teams. No one is going anywhere alone.” He turned ahead again.

Dipper gulped. He remembered the last lapse… For the first time in his life, Great Uncle Ford had been scary. That’s not to mention Wendy… or even himself. Dipper shuttered. He did _not_ want to go into another fight-or-flight episode resulting in a twenty-minute hike alone in the woods. That and he’d rather not see Wendy’s teeth again. He couldn’t wait until they were human again.

The trees thinned enough to where they could see a large yard before an old mansion. Dipper’s ears flicked forward. The yard wasn’t that wide. The dilapidated stone wall that surrounded the mansion was so broken, it could hardly be considered a wall. However, they still needed to go through the place that had a broken gate since Mabel’s cart couldn’t travel over steep terrain like Dipper could.

Grunkle Stan and Soos worked together to pull the fancy metal-tangled gate three inches out of the ground and push it open so hard and so far, it’s rusted hinges cracked and broke. Wendy patted Dipper’s shoulder and helped him across the uneven ground. Even terrified as he was, and terrified of her new wolfish form, being around her did seem to drain the danger-fear out of him! Now, social nervousness? Not so much.

Mabel pointed upward with a laugh. “Grunkle Stan! I found you!”

They looked up to see a fierce looking gargoyle hanging from one of the higher stories. It looked like Grunkle Stan, but had an elongated snout and spikes on its back. Its jaws were wide open and harsh fangs bared in a roar. Grunkle Stan let out a harsh chuckling noise to acknowledge her discovery. “That you did, kiddo.”

Great Uncle Ford turned back to the house. “Come! We can’t be here for too long. We need to find this cure. There is a library and a study here. When I first picked through this place, there was nothing of interest for my current studies–superstition, nothing less. But perhaps it is much more than superstition.”

Dipper and Mabel perked up and looked about. Soos and Wendy took a few pictures of the dusty mansion with their phones. Grunkle Stan stared at the dusty paintings and broken statues in uncertainty and distrust. Great Uncle Ford hurried to get through the hallways.

The library in the mansion was _huge_. Books of all shapes, sizes, and nearly all conditions lined the walls and stacked on tables. Great Uncle Ford flew up to the some of the higher shelves to look at the books there. Dipper scanned the shelves on the bottom and in piles. Wendy climbed up a few shelves to read over the books. Soos lumbered about, picking over books on tables and piles. Grunkle Stan did not enter the library.

Dipper took a deep breath and blew the dust off of a book. He rubbed the spine with his thumb to get a better look at the fragile cover. _“Life Cycles of Fantastical Humanoid Beasts.”_ The dusty brown book held a werewolf and a vampire on the cover. He thumbed through the first pages of the index and chapter titles and sections. Eventually, he landed on “Cervataur”.

_“Cervataur are some of the shiest -taur, unlike the temperamental manotaur or wildly aggressive and extremely rare dracotaur. DIET: Although one would suspect a cervataur to eat grass, I have never once encountered a cervataur who thought that grass was a lovely option. I’ve ensnared or snuck up upon or otherwise witnessed more cervataur eating ripe fruit and nuts than any other food out in the wild. The only “human” food they seem to tolerate are greens like lettuce, spinach, and mint, though they seem to love alfalfa. While speaking with some cervataur, I’ve noticed that they have the odd habit of chewing on twigs when hungry, foraging, or nervous.”_

“What’s that?”

Dipper looked up upon hearing Mabel’s voice.

“Oh. It’s, uh… about magical human-animals. Like, uh, me,” Dipper stated and held out the book.

Mabel, careful not to drip water onto the fragile parchment, scanned the first few lines and looked at the picture. A full grown buck stood tall and mighty. In the place of its head was a lean-muscled human man. A giant rack of antlers sprouted from his head and oblong ears perked up. “Oooh! Does it say anything about mermaids?”

Dipper flipped through the book until he landed on ‘M’. “Hmm… mermaid, mermaid, mermaid… Oh!” He pointed to a beautiful, long-haired woman twirling through the page. A long tail with silky fins trailed behind her. “Yep. Mermaids. We should save this.” He shut the book and handed it to Mabel. Mabel gently put the book in their book-box and continued searching through the shelves.

Dipper, slightly disappointed, continued looking through the books. However, he hadn’t gone five minutes before his muscles froze. The blood in his veins chilled and caused him to shiver. His tail and ears perked up. He didn’t feel right.

Mabel looked up at him. “Dipper?”

The young cervataur didn’t answer right away. He let out a faint wheeze, “Something’s. Wrong.” He could feel it in his very bones. The room’s mood shifted. Although Soos, Wendy, and Great Uncle Ford kept searching, Dipper could feel something was terribly wrong. “I-I think we should g-get out of here. I don’t…” Then, he heard it. Heavy footsteps pressed down on the ancient carpeting and wooden floors outside. They were muffled. They were definitely Grunkle Stan’s wide, heavy feet, but they were also his hands. A large breath hissed between his stony fangs.

Dipper whipped around. “GRUNKLE STAN!”

Wendy yelped and fell two stories off a shelf into Soos’s arms. Ford whipped around and let go of the shelf he clung to. His vibrant wings kept him aloft. “Dipper! What happened?”

“G-Grunkle Stan!” Dipper said. The footsteps became louder and faster as the creature picked up pace. “I don’t know what’s happening!”

The doors opened. A gray creature shot from the door and into the library. The nearest person was Great Uncle Ford. The sphinx’s ears flicked back. “Get out of here! Snap out of it, Stanley!”

Dipper didn’t need to be told twice. He turned and bolted out the door. Wendy and Soos followed. A hard _crack_ resounded through the library and the hallways as their Grunkle and Great Uncle clashed.

Mabel turned around. “What? We can’t leave them!”

Wendy, now running on all fours, raced ahead of them. Soos lumbered behind them. His feet shattered small tables and bits of rubble as he barreled straight through them. A _crash_ farther down the hallway alerted them of the gargoyle running into the hall and being pounced upon by the sphinx.

“Sorry, dudes!” Soos gasped and shut the door. “We have to get you kids back to the Shack!”

Dipper darted out into the yard. Wendy kicked away a few branches near the gate to give them a very clear path. Mabel looked about. “No! We can’t leave them!” She put her hand to her head. Her palms brushed against her teary face. She took a deep breath, shut her eyes, and let out a high pitched, earsplitting wail. Soos clamped his hands over his ears. Wendy, yelping, collapsed and dug her fingers into her sensitive ears. Dipper clapped his hands over his head. He stopped running. Mabel wheezed and gasped to regain her breath. Even when the wail ended, Dipper did not move. In fact, he let his fingers slip off of his head. His once frantic heart beat at a perfectly normal rhythm. Wendy stood up and twitched one of her ears. Soos relaxed and ambled toward them. The shattering and crashing within stopped. Great Uncle Ford walked out of the house, wings held over him like an umbrella. Grunkle Stan dragged his feet as he left.

Great Uncle Ford stopped beside the twins. “We have to leave. Now. Stanley is… staying. For a while.”

Dipper gasped, “G-Grunkle Stan?”

Stanley held up one hand. He kept the other on his head. His eyes glimmered blue, now, instead of yellow. “Go. I… I don’t know what I’d do if–go back to the Shack. I’ll follow you home, okay, kid?”

Mabel whined and hit the water she was in with her fist. “We can’t leave you behind!”

“He’s cursed,” Great Uncle Ford stated in a soothing voice. “We just need to find a way to lift it. Until then, it will be much safer for you back at the house.”

Mabel shook her head. “No! There h-has to be a way!” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began to sing. Dipper’s legs collapsed. He set his hands on the ground to at least keep himself upright. Wendy flopped to the ground. Soos stopped moving. Great Uncle Ford wavered and swayed on his paws before succumbing to the mermaid’s song. Grunkle Stan was the only one who did not immediately collapse. He stared at Mabel. His eyes flickered from blue to gold to blue again. Mabel’s unrelenting song weakened the bonds that held onto Grunkle Stan’s very lifeforce. However, though a mermaid’s song was so potent that it could make any human of any amount of willpower succumb to her whim, magical monsters were different. Grunkle Stan was made of magic and stone. Magic bound his very lifeforce to the decrepit mansion.

Mabel’s song turned into a sigh. She took a few steadying breaths before she spoke up, “Come on, Grunkle Stan! You can come with us!”

Dipper, a hand on his head, shakily got to his feet. “Wha…?”

Great Uncle Ford jumped to his feet. “Mabel! That… Stanley, try coming to the edge of the property with us. Who knows what kind of effect a mermaid’s song could have on an enchanted gargoyle. Hurry!” He rushed out the gate, glancing constantly behind himself to make sure they were following. Soos stumbled to his feet and followed. He tried speaking, but his words were not in English. Wendy stayed beside Dipper to make sure that he didn’t fall. Grunkle Stan kept his distance, but followed all the same.

Eventually, they got to a point where Grunkle Stan simply couldn’t follow. They stopped upon hearing a heavy choke. Behind them, Grunkle Stan struggled with glowing blue chains. A blue cuff choked his neck while two wrapped around his wrists. Heavy blue chains were connected to the cuffs, but faded out of existence the farther away from Grunkle Stan they got.

Dipper tried to turn around, but he couldn’t move his body too much for fear of tipping Mabel’s cooler or getting the books wet. Great Uncle Ford walked around so that he stood by Mabel. “Mabel, try singing again. Stanley: relax.” Grunkle Stan stopped fiddling with his chains and turned his attention to Mabel.

Grunkle Stan nodded. “Yeah.”

The young mermaid took a deep breath and began to sing. Dipper didn’t fall this time. This song didn’t bring lethargy. Dipper’s heartrate not only stayed normal, but pumped with a new vigor as his bravery was bolstered and his energy increased. Wendy’s tail wagged. Soos’ clay eyes grew shiny and bright. Great Uncle Ford watched Grunkle Stan. A small smile crept at the edges of his mouth.

Grunkle Stan smiled, too. The bright blue bonds fizzled and wavered in opacity. However, they stayed straight, tight, constricting.

Great Uncle Ford thought for a moment and then nodded. “You keep him here. I’ll see if I can disrupt whatever spell he’s under.” He launched himself off of the ground and flew away from the mansion. Then, he circled over the forest a few yards away and went back to the mansion. Grunkle Stan’s eyes flashed blue as did his chains as an intruder ran over his territory. However, Mabel’s song kept him firmly in place. Mabel’s face began to turn into a pinkish blue as she suffocated herself keeping the song going.

“Mabel, are you okay?” Dipper whispered. Mabel gave him a thumbs up but did not interrupt her song.

However, Dipper could not watch Mabel turn another shade of purple. He put his hands on her shoulders. “Mabel! Breathe!”

Mabel gasped. Her face returned to its natural hues. She flopped down into her cooler and set her head on the rim. Grunkle Stan shook his head and groaned. “Ugh. This is giving me a headache!”

Wendy bit back a yawn. “Wow! Now _that_ is what I call singing!”

Grunkle Stan’s eyes sparked a sharp blue, as did his chains. An animalistic snarl escaped from his throat. The gargoyle spun around and took off back to the mansion.

“Mr. Pines!” “Grunkle Stan!” the four voices cried.

Soos lumbered into the territory of the mansion. “Mr. Pines!” he shouted. The gargoyle paused in flight. His blue eyes darted from the mansion with his brother to the clay figure of his employee. When he tried to dive toward the mansion, Soos snapped one of the hinges. Grunkle Stan turned his dive around so that he could attack Soos. Something crashed inside the house. The gargoyle abandoned Soos. Soos broke another hinge. Another scuffle came from inside. Grunkle Stan shrieked in his frustration and dove toward the house. He ignored Soos as he broke the last hinge on the gate. Mabel made a small wheeze as she tried to sing again. She couldn’t even lift her head. The gargoyle rushed into the house, though he kept his wings pinned to his back and his horned head down to stop himself from breaking anything.

Dipper danced on his hooves. “Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no. What are we going to do?”

“Just, stay cool, man,” Wendy urged. “We’ll think of something.”

Soos accidently snapped one of the metal poles drawing his hand back. The door squeaked open. Great Uncle Ford and Grunkle Stan, feet dragging and heads bowed, left the building. Grunkle Stan’s eyes were just as orange as his brother’s.

“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper and Mabel both shouted. Dipper raced to Stan’s side. Mabel held out her arms to hug him as well.

Grunkle Stan laughed, “You’re alright! That’s some voice you have there, kiddo.” He rubbed Mabel’s head, which caused her to laugh.

Stanford sent a morose look back at the mansion and then back to them. “Did anyone manage to get anything while we were there?”

Dipper nodded. “I found a book on human-monsters! Like cervataur and mermaids.” Soos and Wendy shook their heads.

Stanford sighed. “That’s what I thought. Stanley, you take the kids home. I’ll go see if I can find more.”

Stanley turned to Soos and Wendy. “Soos, take the kids home.”

Stanford flicked his ear. “You shouldn’t stay here. I just managed to break whatever spell this mansion put on you!”

“I can’t leave you alone,” Stanley hissed in a voice so low Dipper hardly heard him. “You know what happens when you’re left alone with books or treasure.”

Stanford’s ears flicked back. “That’s true, but…”

“Take the kids home,” Stanley ordered.

“Yes, Mr. Pines!” Soos ambled off, Wendy at heel. Reluctantly, Dipper followed. He flicked one ear back.

“Stanley, I can handle myself. You can’t stay here.”

“You already broke that curse thing, right? Not like I’m lettin’ you stay here all night, anyway.”

Once they were too far away to hear them–and their great uncles walked to the mansion–Mabel prompted, “What were they talking about?”

Dipper shrugged. “Grunkle Stan doesn’t want to leave Great Uncle Ford alone. There might be something about our curse in that place.”

Mabel rested her chin on the cooler. “Hey, Dipper?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t think they’ll get stuck there, do you?”

“Of course not. They’ll come back.”

Wendy grinned. “Yeah, dude! They’ll be just fine.”

Soos agreed, “Mr. Pines can think of anything!”

Dipper smiled. “Yeah. Also, I didn’t know you had a voice like that.”

Mabel smiled sheepishly. “Me, neither.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last! We're getting somewhere!
> 
> In the official Monsterfalls Blog, one of the RPs was of Grunkle Stan and Dipper going to this mansion where Grunkle Stan was bound to the mansion via magic. They had to find a way to dispel it in order for: A. Grunkle Stan to not eat Dipper. B. Grunkle Stan to leave with Dipper. I thought Stanford would be better for the job. He's a sphinx, bearer of knowledge and guardian of treasure. Stanley's a gargoyle, guardian of the house and people. It would work out more easily that way.
> 
> Also, they're learning new things every day. I think you can guess how Stanford's coping. Also, Mabel can sing! :D Although this is a thing normally reserved for sirens (I'm looking at you, Reverse Mabel!) I decided it to be a valid plot driver for Mabel to have it.
> 
> Also, in Reverse Falls, I can totally see Mabel being a siren. Like, 100%, no doubts. Dipper wouldn't be a cervataur, though. He'd probably be a centaur. Ooooooooo! Or a dracotaur! :D Too bad there aren't any dragons in Gravity Falls. (That we know of~!)


	8. Blast From the Past

“Good morning Dipper!”

Dipper opened his eyes and looked over at his sister, whose elbows were on the rim of her large fish tank. The edges had been frosted and decorated lavishly, not only to give it Mabel’s own personal flare, but giving her privacy nowhere else allowed. Dipper yawned. “Good morning, Mabel.”

“Hey!” Mabel gasped. “Look! Look! Your spots!”

“My spots?” Dipper looked down at his flank. Fawns had small spots dappling their flanks like the spots of sunlight through the canopy. “What’s wrong with them?”

Mabel rolled her eyes. “They’re _bigger_ , dork! Your spots are all bigger and whiter!”

Dipper sighed. The spots that dappled his flanks were indeed larger and brighter. “Aw, man. Babies have spots, though! Not adults!”

Mabel grinned. “You’re not a baby, Dipper. But you’re still a kid!”

“We’re almost teens, though!”

“Yep. Wait! If we hurry, we’ll get to the lake maybe even before Grenda and Candy! Hurry up, Dipper!” Mable backflipped into her tank.

Dipper sighed and stood up.

 

Dipper walked in circles in the living area on light hooves. His nose was stuck in the newest book they’d gotten: _“Life Cycles of Fantastical Humanoid Beasts.”_ After a bit of dusting and touching up, it turned out to be a very solid book. How it was so old yet sturdy, he was quite unsure. Still, he focused on it with his undivided attention.

_“Cervataur young rarely ever stray from their mothers before thirteen. Even then, most stay completely by their mother’s side until fourteen and only leave for short periods of time. A fawn is completely independent by their sixteenth year with a lavish celebration. If the mother is not present, the fawn will stay by the closest relative–female over male, preferably, though fawns have been known to stay by their grandfathers. If ever a fawn is orphaned, deer herds will gladly take them in. Even centaurs will make room in their herd for orphaned cervataur, just as cervataur will keep room for orphaned centaur.”_

There was a small section break before…

_“Speed: 45 mph, though a buck sprinting can reach up to 55 mph. Cervataur learn to walk properly in two days, but don’t quite gain the ability to run at such speeds until their fifth year. Jump Height: 10 feet in the air, but rarely do so unless they need to as landing can be quite painful. Does jump higher than older bucks due to the older bucks’ heavy antlers and naturally heavier muscle structure. Jump Distance: They can span a distance of up to 30 feet in one jump.”_

 Dipper looked down at his hooves. Okay. He was going to run on his own. This time, he was going to actually run. He was going to move! Dipper put away his new book in his jacket and walked outside. He walked a circuit around the front yard. Then, he walked two. Finally, he stopped and backed up until his rump touched the totem pole. He bounced on his hooves, tensed, and then sprinted. Wind whipped past the boy and tore his hat off his head. Dipper’s dainty hooves hardly touched the ground. The birdsong laden wind breathed a whole new life into him. Dipper laughed. Man, this felt good! However, his joy was short-lived as he was bearing down on the Bottomless Pit faster than their cart. Without even thinking, Dipper’s front legs bent as they hit the ground. Once his back hooves struck the ground, he used both his back-leg strength and his momentum to catapult him over the gap. Dipper trotted to a stop and looked back, mouth agape and eyes wide. Not only did he just jump _over_ the Bottomless Pit, which was fifteen feet wide, but left a good two or three feet on either side. He just jumped twenty something feet.

Dipper laughed and ran around so that he was on the opposite side of the yard. How high could he jump…? Dipper tensed, lowered himself, and then sprinted forward. He cleared the Bottomless Pit with ease. He looked down at the ground so far away from him. Whoa. Okay, now it wasn’t fun. Dipper yelled in fright as the ground rushed up to meet him. On instinct, he landed with both hooves in front of him and his weight forward to redirect his momentum. His hooves dug into the ground as he landed, and his momentum flung him forward for another leap, one which he was not prepared for.

Dipper stumbled, but managed to stop right before hitting the totem pole. He shook himself and stepped back. “Okay, that’s enough of that.” He looked over the house. In the middle of the night when Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford came home, Grunkle Stan had perched on the roof to sleep. Now he and Great Uncle Ford were gone again, right after eating breakfast. Dipper turned to the woods. Well… a nice walk wouldn’t hurt.

So, Dipper walked.

Dipper’s ears twitched. He sniffed the wind. He could hear more hooves against the leafy ground in the distance. Leaves rustled, bushes waved, and animals called. Dipper could pick out the sounds of the forest and study them individually. Black-backed woodpeckers, woodpecker-peckers, osprey, sage grouse, meadowlarks, and snowy plovers whistled, chirped, and flitted about the trees. Gray foxes, red tree voles, pikas, wolverines, and pygmy rabbits rustled in the plants. More deer and even some elk roamed the forest. A coolness touched Dipper’s blood as he smelled the trails of gray wolves, coyotes, black bears, and cougars. Although he couldn’t really name them all–he wasn’t an expert in wildlife–he knew that they were there.

Eventually, Dipper found his surroundings changing. He stopped. Before him was the broken mansion, the one that once entranced Grunkle Stan. Both of his great uncles were there. Oooh if he got caught anywhere near here, he’d be dead meat! Possibly literally. So, he turned around and walked in a different direction. Somehow, he found himself by the mansion. The third time he passed by, he sighed and hopped over the rubble near the back wall. As he wandered around the yard, he searched for things out of the ordinary. Books, tablets, sculptures, anything to do with magic. Unfortunately, anything that was outside had long since weathered away.

So, Dipper quietly made his way inside.

Staying well away from the library, Dipper wandered the halls and the rooms. It became very hard to keep himself from sneezing the more he wandered the old place. He stopped in the doorway of one room that was not quite dusty. There was a path of destruction where claws had ripped into the rugs in the hallway and knocked things over. The room itself was relatively unscathed. Completely made of stone and decorated very creepily, runes and incantations and spells scrawled over the walls. What looked like a summoning circle was in the center of it. Dried blood crusted the floor. When Dipper knelt to investigate, he found it smelled like Grunkle Stan’s, but also Great Uncle Ford’s. Dipper shuttered and stood up again. He tried not imagining his great uncles fighting–just as they never even stepped toward each other after that initial quarrel in the portal room–but knew full well what was wrong with his great uncles.

Dipper heard footsteps in the hall behind him. He sucked in his breath, resisting a cough, and looked around the room. Door, door, door, door–ah! There! Dipper hopped over the summoning circle and squirmed into what was probably–hopefully?–a closet.

Grunkle Stan walked into the room, his claws getting close to the summing circle but not quite touching it.

“Stanley! Is someone here?” Great Uncle Ford’s voice came from down the hall.

“I thought I heard someone!” Grunkle Stan replied. “Or felt it.”

“Was someone in the summoning room?”

“I don’t know!” Grunkle Stan backed out and walked down the hall. “I don’t see anyone!”

Dipper sighed, opened the door and hopped out, careful not to touch the circle in the center of the room. Dipper started toward the door and then hesitated. The back wall of the “closet” was wooden. Dipper pressed his ear against the wall. When he tapped the wall, he could hear airspace on the other side.

Excited, Dipper pushed open the fake door. His heart skipped a beat.

The room was enormous. It was filled with complex notes, books, images, little inventions, and long-dead specimens. A lab coat hung on one wall. As Dipper walked in, he could feel the old, soft red-and-gold carpet beneath his hooves. All sorts of weird animals decorated the shelves, tables, desks, and walls. Dipper blew the dust off the desk closest, careful not to disturb the board with pinned fairy wings, and opened a drawer. A pile of notebooks was within.

Dipper opened the first notebook and sucked in his breath.

_“Journal Entry One._

_“I’ve decided to keep a journal. Ironically, only after I stopped being able to use my thumbs. Thankfully, my nephew’s a smart young lad and still has his thumbs. Now, I’ve been afflicted with some sort of magic curse after foolishly falling into a stream. While I still retain my human mind, my body went through a rather painful transformation. I am now a monster of Egyptian legend–the sphinx. Curiously, my nephew came into contact with the water after handling my soaked coat but did not transform into a sphinx. Originally, I thought he was immune, but soon found out how wrong I was. He’d turned into an elf with ability to shift between the forms of falcon, wolf, swan, or stallion. This has led me to believe the water treats everyone differently.”_

Dipper flipped through the pages and then the rest of the notebooks. The notebooks usually held only words. As he looked around the room a second time, he started to see things differently. The rug had tears in it, presumably from claws. Scratches marred the wood and stone. There was a perch in the ceiling, large enough for a medium sized bird like a parrot or falcon. It was well out of Dipper’s reach. In the closet of the summoning circle room were chains and locks. The wooden false door was ripped and splintered in the side facing in.

Dipper flipped through the books until he got to the end.

_“Unfortunately, we have not yet found a cure. Though my nephew can transform from human to elf whenever he pleases by coming into contact with that water and then willing himself to stay or become human, I have had no such luck. I’m still a sphinx. I’ve scored my library a dozen times. There’s nothing there but bestiaries and some magic know-how.”_

“What in the…?”

Dipper jumped and spun around. Grunkle Stan’s voice came from the doorway of the summoning circle room. Dipper stuck the old notebook back in its place and looked around. There was nowhere to hide in this study. Besides, he’d already opened the door and left it open. He stood up straight. “It’s me, Grunkle Stan! Dipper.”

“Dipper! What are you doing here?” Stanley opened the door to the closet and stopped, eyes growing round. “When did this get here?”

“It’s a secret study,” Dipper explained and grinned. “And it has a lot of information!”

“It does?” Stanford bounded into the room behind his brother. As Grunkle Stan walked in, Great Uncle Stanford followed with a look of wonder. “This place looks virtually untouched! How long has this been here? Dipper, did you find it?”

Dipper nodded. “Yeah. I was kinda curious about the place, so I started looking around and accidentally found this place while hiding in that closet. But!” Dipper went on quickly. “The person who lived here was a researcher! And he studied the curse! He never found a cure, but he found out a lot about it.”

“Fascinating,” Stanford breathed, looking over one of the untouched shelves of inscribed chunks of rock.

“Also, he said that the library didn’t have anything on the curse,” Dipper admitted.

Stanford turned to him. “How do you know that?”

Dipper pointed to the dresser. “He kept a log of everything.”

“Well then! We must take this back to my lab immediately!” Stanford grinned and ran around to the notebooks. “Stanley, Dipper! Help me pick up these loose notes and books and such.”

Stanley rolled his eyes but helped pack things up nonetheless. Dipper went to grabbing different things he thought were useful and put them in his bag.

Stanford glanced at Dipper. “You look different, Dipper.”

The boy nodded. “Yeah. Mabel pointed out that my white spots are getting bigger.”

Stanford nodded and picked up a stash of papers. “Interesting development.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This segment started out darker. Like, much, much, much darker. I was super reluctantly to even post this as a draft. My system is: Get a bunch of chapters done before hand, post them as chapters, write their descriptions, and then post them one-by-one on a schedule after one more look-over. But, well... it took me a while to write the end of this. ~~Totally not because the sphinx character kills his nephew in a fit and then commits suicide and all that's left is bones because they've been forgotten and abandoned for decades, that would be awful.~~
> 
> But what's done is done! :)


	9. Adaptation

_“Interesting development.”_ The two words hardly summed up whatever was happening to Dipper. At first, sure it was kinda difficult to see and maybe it was nothing. But after two days of checking to see if his spots changed–and maybe gave him a fancy teenager coat instead of a baby one?–he found that his spots were gone!

…except, so was all of his color.

Dipper, gripping his snowy white ears, screamed as he looked down at himself. Mabel popped her head out of the water of her tank. “What?!”

“MABEL! I think something’s wrong with me!” He thrashed his legs. “Deer aren’t white!”

Mabel sighed. “Dipper, Jeez. It’s fine. You said those white spots were changing all the time before, remember?”

“B-bu–!”

“Dipper.”

“Mabel…” Dipper whined and looked up at her. His ears hurt, now, from the pressure he was putting on them. Eventually, he sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I guess.” He let go of his ears and winced. “Ow. Headache.”

Mabel grinned. “That over with? Cool! I’m hungry!” She flopped out of her tank and ended up in the mobile cooler by the side of her bed.

Dipper rolled his eyes and got to his hooves. “Just don’t splash me!”

“No promises!”

 

Dipper paced the front yard. Mabel, swimming in her human hamster ball full of still-cool hose-water, giggled and swam in circles. There was only a small space of air at the top to allow her to speak. “Hey, Dipper! Oh, hey, Wendy!”

Dipper turned and smiled sheepishly. Wendy was on the roof. Her feet were planted firmly on the space beside her water cooler and her fingers curled into claws on the lip of the roof. His tail flicked up and his ears pinned against his head. There was something… wrong here. “Wendy?”

Mabel stopped smiling and set her hands on the ball. She opened the top hatch and poked her head out. “Wendy, you okay?”

Wendy’s teeth glinted in the light. Dipper’s heartbeat shot up. “Oh no. Oooooh no. Wendy? Wendy calm down.” He took a step back. She barked and leaped from the roof. Dipper screamed and ran off. Wendy tore after him. Dipper looked about and then concentrated on the Bottomless Pit. He forced himself not to look back, even when he felt her breath heat his ankles. He paused only long enough to leap over the Pit. Wendy scrambled to a stop, snarled, and then ran the long way around. Dipper ran about in circles. Wendy, barking and snarling in frustration, stopped and spun around. Dipper bleated and barely dodged her.

Wendy tore after him as he bounded into the woods. The closest she ever got to the cervataur was when her teeth snapped at his ankles or her clawed fingers tore through a tree nearby. Dipper, terror sending new strength into him, winced as he felt the heat of her breath on her ankles. He took a deep breath and concentrated on _getting away._

It was easy, then. As if he’d flipped a switch, their chase changed. Dipper hopped off small roots, bounded off rocks, cleared large spaces, and fit between the bowing trunks of trees very quickly. Wendy was able to run with some grace, but her frustration caused her to blunder many a times. Dipper was ahead now, but he didn’t want to run forever. He felt like he could, though… like he could run and run and cross the world and not get tired. What if she got lost? Dipper could get unlost, but Wendy couldn’t.

So, Dipper stopped running.

Wendy shot ahead of him, yelping and gasping as she suddenly tried to change direction. She skidded and tore up the ground for a few feet before turning to face him. Dipper, pushing his nervousness down and promising himself he could run away, held out his hand. “Wendy, stop.”

Wendy snarled at him, ears pinned and claws digging into the ground.

 _Okay, this was much simpler a second ago._ “Wendy, uh, stay? Sit? Uh… um…” Dipper took a deep breath, hardened his stance, pulled himself to look bigger, and held out a hand. In as deep and commanding a voice he could muster, he stated, “Stop!”

Wendy halted. For a moment, she kept her teeth bared and glared at him. But, as Dipper stayed calm and commanding and didn’t move, Wendy relaxed and stopped glaring at him. She sat down and yawned. Her wide pupils contracted back to their normal size. She stood up on her hind legs. “Huh? Dipper? Oh no.”

“It’s nothing!” Dipper held up his hands. “Nothing happened! You, uh, want to go back now?”

Wendy wiped off her snout and picked up her hat. “Yeah, dude. Sure.” As they walked, Wendy prompted, “So, uh… you aren’t hurt?”

“Nope.” Dipper smiled. “I’m good!” _Finally! Nothing bad happened because he was a stupid deer._

*          *          *          *          *

“…and then I told her to stop and she did!” Dipper burst out, grinning ear to ear.

Stanford, who was sitting a few feet away next to one of his machines, nodded. “So, you were able to outrun her easily when, just a few days before, you were nearly caught by her. Then you were able to stop her and shake her back to reality? Your coat is very light, now.”

Dipper nodded. “Mhm!”

“Interesting,” Stanford commented. “Mabel was the only one with any ability to placate someone with her will and voice. Now you’ve gained this ability, too. Did you _adapt_ to your situation? That wouldn’t explain the whiteness of your coat… unless… Stanley? Are you getting this?”

Stanley, who was hanging upside down in the rafters twiddling with something, looked down. “Huh?”

Stanford rolled his eyes. “Never mind, I have it recorded.” He pressed a button on a box next to him. “Well, fascinating news, Dipper. You’ve changed quite a bit in these past few days. If you are able to outrun Wendy…”

“Chase me!” Dipper stood up, ears flicked forward.

“What?” The exclamation came from both Stan twins.

Stanford shook his head. “No, I’m not going to risk hurting you.”

“That’s the thing, though. If I _know_ I can outrun you, it would be much safer than assuming. Plus, you won’t actually be trying to kill me. You’ll be in your sane mind!”

Stanford grimaced and looked down at his paws. “Dipper, we’ll just have to take your word for it. I don’t want to risk anything happening, _especially_ on purpose.”

Dipper frowned. “Come on, Great Uncle Ford! If I know I can outrun you, and I know I can calm Wendy down, what if I can talk other people out of their fits?”

Stanford flexed his toes. “Stanley?”

“That’s gotta be the dumbest idea I’ve heard all day.” Stanley scoffed. “Don’t tell me you’re buyin’ into it.”

“You can fly, Grunkle Stan!” Dipper pointed out. “Please?”

Stanford looked up at him and shook his head. “No, Dipper. I won’t chase you. Anything can happen. I’d rather not risk it.”

Dipper sighed. “Okay, okay.”

“Good. Now, we’ve got to get back to work. If you have anything else to say, feel free to come down here and ask.”

When Dipper got outside, Wendy and Mabel were still out there. Mabel piped up, “Hey, Dipper! Wendy and I are going to the lake! Wanna come?”

Dipper shrugged with a bashful smile. “Sure!”

 

Wendy and Mabel had quite a bit of fun at the lake. Mabel tied herself up to a small boat and took Wendy out swimming. As a tease, she had packed a ball and would throw it out into the water. Wendy, unable to resist the siren call of a tennis ball, would leap into the water, chase it down, and then come back. After some fake grumbling and looking around to make sure no one else was around, she’d toss it back to Mabel.

Dipper… wasn’t one to go swimming, admittedly. Being in the lake made him feel a bit uneasy, so he stayed on land. As Dipper sat and listened, he heard a deer herd nearby. They were close, and the herd was small. Dipper called, “Mabel! Wendy! I’m going to go walking, okay?”

Mabel and Wendy, both of whom were in the water, gave him the thumbs up. Wendy had a ball stuck in her mouth that blocked any attempt at speech, so Mabel called, “Okay, Dippin’ Dot! Have fun with your new deer friends!”

Dipper stood up and bounded into the woods. It didn’t take long for him to find them. When he approached, none of them paid attention to them. It was a herd of does with a few fawns. One of the younger ones looked to have stub antlers like Dipper, only smaller if that was possible. Hands behind his back and ears flicked back, Dipper approached the herd. The doe closest raised her head and looked at him. She blinked. After an uncomfortable amount of time had passed, she went back to nibbling on the undergrowth.

One deer took notice of him.

Dipper turned and looked at the only set of eyes on him. This deer was _huge_ , plain and simple. He was enormous with thick, sleek muscles rippling under fine _white_ fur. He was completely white, just the same as Dipper. The stag’s antlers were huge. He could cradle the moon! Dipper vaguely remembered hearing “Manly” Dan and a few other folk talking about deer and how they’d gauge their catch on the amount of points a stag had. The more points, the bigger and older and stronger they were. Dipper mentally counted each spike that came off the stag’s antlers, making a total of eighteen points. Twelve was the largest any of the men had caught.

The stag walked forward. Dipper… didn’t freeze. A few of the does around him ambled off so that they weren’t in the massive stag’s way. Otherwise, they didn’t pay too much attention to him, either. Once the stag was close, Dipper could see the true color of his eyes: gold flecked blue and pink. Then, the stag bent one knee and lowered his massive head. Was he… _bowing?_

Dipper quickly collected his thoughts and imitated him.

The stag stood up straight, turned, and cantered off. Dipper followed at his side. “So, are you some sort of really old and wise deer?” Dipper prompted.

The stag flicked his ear.

“Um… is that a yes?”

The stag looked back at him.

“I… I am going to take that as a yes.” Dipper could’ve sworn he saw the stag smile at him before looking ahead again.

The stag stopped, causing Dipper to do the same.

The stag looked down into the stream, ears flicked forward, and eyes concentrated on himself. Dipper followed suit. This… this was the magic stream! But, wait! How did they get here so quickly? The stream was in the other direction of where Dipper had gone.

The stag snorted, catching Dipper’s attention.

“Yeah?” Dipper looked at him and then their reflections. “What is it? I know the water’s magic. That’s what turned me into a deer-person. That’s what turned everyone into monsters. I found it! I caused it!”

The stag snorted and stared hard into his reflection.

“What are you telling me?” Dipper looked at his reflection, too. “I know you’re a deer and I’m part deer, and…” He narrowed his eyes. “Wait… white… are you some sort of already magic deer?”

The stag nodded.

“And you can understand me. Are you a special type of magic deer? A white deer… a white buck? Is that special?” The stag dipped his head. “Okay, and I turned into you, sorta. I kinda became like you. When I became this and lost all my color, I outran Wendy. I was able to shake her out of her spell. I can go places without thinking on them.”

The stag snorted, stirring the tumbling water’s surface.

“…and I found this stream. But that was before! I turned everyone into monsters when I did!”

The stag raised his head and breathed onto his vest.

Dipper put a hand on his shirt and then took out the first thing he could think of: his book. “This book? On half-humans? Well, I found that at the library. I went back and found a researcher’s research. But he never found the cure!”

The stag shook his head.

“Yeah, okay. Not my fault, but… so… so are you saying I’ll keep finding stuff like this?” Dipper held out the book and then pointed to the stream. “And this?”

The stag raised his head high, ears flicked forward.

“W-will I go into any more of those fight-or-flight episodes?” Dipper asked, his voice a bit slower and quieter.

The stag blinked.

“…you don’t know, do you?”

The stag looked at the water again.

“Yeah, I thought so,” Dipper sighed and looked down at the water. “But we’ll find a way to get past this, right?”

The white stag looked up at him. Although his mouth couldn’t move like a person’s, Dipper could swear he saw a smile in his eyes.

Dipper smiled back. “Then I guess I’ll have to start understanding what’s going on!”

The stag stood up straight, dipped his head, and hopped away. He was out of sight surprisingly fast.

Dipper went back to the deer herd. They were quiet and calm as far as deer went. Fawns hopped around each other in play. Dipper decided to lay down and read. He could go back to the Shack later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dipper's fully white and learning more about his powers! Looks like being part deer isn't all bad, eh? Everyone's forms have their great and low points. After all, every person's new form was based on their character and personalities.
> 
> Also, question: Since I gave [The White Stag](https://venomquill.deviantart.com/journal/Gravity-Falls-AU-Gravity-Trails-712236665) some importance in this chapter, not only for himself but Dipper, should I add that as a referenced/co-AU? Like a mix or just keep it as a "head canon" sort of spin on the story?
> 
> Also, Also: There's a rough chapter count, now!


	10. Control

Dipper, back straight and hands by his sides, walked into town with Grunkle Stan. Mabel sat in the water cooler attached to Dipper. Down the street, he spotted Wendy and the other teens hanging out by a store. Wendy caught Robbie’s hand out of the air, causing the other teens to clap–all but Robbie, who complained endlessly as he chased her.

As they went to the store and Dipper and Mabel started grabbing things on the shopping list, Grunkle Stan went to the meat aisle, where one singular package of steaks was left. Just as he went to grab it, “Manly” Dan set a fuzzy hand on it. Dipper, who was holding a good-sized package of lettuce, and Mabel, who held a can of tuna fish, stopped.

The two rather large men–one a lumberjack in his prime who’d turned into what looked like Bigfoot and the other an older, more complacent man who’d turned into a stone monster–both held onto the last piece of meat in the store. Grunkle Stan attempted to pull it out of the lumberjack’s hand. “Paws off! I was here first!”

“I saw it first!” “Manly” Dan barked back, attempting to yank it out of his hands.

Dipper and Mabel looked at each other.

“What are you, five? I had it first, now let me have it!”

“This is for my meat-eater daughter!”

“She eats dog food, for Pete’s sake! My brother doesn’t!”

Dipper trotted forward. “Hey, hey! Uh, don’t fight!”

“Yeah!” Mabel held up the can of tuna. “I’m sure Grunkle Ford would like tuna. All cats love tuna!”

Grunkle Stan didn’t look at them. “You’re not helping, kids.”

Dipper flicked his ear. “I know. But we can’t start fighting over the smallest scrap of food! You know, fish is meat, too, and so are eggs.”

“Yeah! We can share!” Mabel agreed.

Grunkle Stan, in “Manly” Dan’s moment of distraction, tore the steak out of his hands. “Ha! Got it!” With that, he turned and ran away.

“HEY!”

Dipper sucked in his breath and darted after Grunkle Stan. Mabel held out her hands and plucked a few more cans of tuna off the shelves. Although Grunkle Stan tried to scram without paying, Dipper stopped and turned around. “Hey, hey! Let’s, uh, not fight!”

“Manly” Dan snarled. His pupils had expanded so that the color of his eyes was gone. Dipper scrambled to get out of the way as the monster ditched dead meat for live meat, but being tied to the water cooler made it difficult.

“Dipper! Put your hands over your ears!”

Dipper did as his sister told him to do.

Mabel took a deep breath and sang. _Thump._ All around the store, patrons fainted, including the angry monster behind them… and their great uncle. Mabel stopped singing and then hesitated. “Whoops. I meant to calm him down. Oh well!”

Dipper picked up his things and they walked back to the register. Mabel splashed some of her tank water onto Grunkle Stan, who jolted and jumped to his feet. “Wha-huh?” He looked back at his dripping tail. “A little less water next time?”

Mabel giggled and set her chin on her hands. “Nope!”

Dipper perked up and looked around as they made it to the register. “Huh? Oh! Uh…” He flicked his ears back as a crowd of humans walked into town. He recognized quite a few of these “humans”–rather, their facial features and hair. It was kinda tough recognizing them without their horns and decorations, but he still knew who they were. He also knew what they were lugging over their shoulders.

Kegs of meat and wild plants in tow, the crowd walked through to the grocery store. The one in lead yelled, “CLERK! We have a trade!”

“Trade! Trade!” squealed some of the smaller people.

The person behind the counter blinked and then pulled up a walkie-talkie. “Boss, we have some customers who want to see you.”

By the time the store owner appeared, everyone else was awake and meeting the new people. One of the smaller men stood by Mabel, his deep brown hair hidden under a pointed red hat. “Mabel!”

“Jeff?”

So, I was a-thinkin’. Since the mighty gnome race has, for the time being, become your species… er… human. Would you reconsider that marriage proposal?”

“Ew, no!” Mabel huffed. “You’re, like, as old as my dad!”

Jeff huffed, “Not really! I mean, unless your dad is a few hundred years old. Then, you know, maybe.”

The human in lead, a rather large, bulky man with an absurd amount of hair, stated, “Store owner! I am Chutzpar and I speak for the forest when we say: take this food! We can’t eat it. The plants make us sick and the meat is for only the beastliest of beasts!” Quite a few people behind him groaned in unison. “In exchange, we want all your human food.”

The store owner, a fawn, nodded. “Alright, yeah. Sure. Let me just, uh, okay.” He walked up to the cash register and took out he microphone. “All employees to the front of the store!”

Soon enough, Grunkle Stan was leading the kids back home. The three of them were laden with groceries that would last them a few weeks, at least. Grunkle Stan opened the door and yelled, “Hey, Ford! You owe me ten bucks!”

Stanford popped his head out of the hallway. “What do you… oh wow!” He ran forward to look over the bags in their hands. “That’s…” He flicked his ears back. “Uh, no wonder the forest creatures gave this to us. Humans can’t eat it. Very good, very good!” He turned and walked to the kitchen. “While you’ve been gone, I’ve been doing some research. For the time being, we are monsters and we must find ways of dealing with that.”

Dipper set his groceries on the counter. “Great Uncle Ford, is there a way to control our new bodies?”

“That’s what I was wondering myself!” Great Uncle Ford sat down at the dinner table. “Alright. I’ve been thinking and there are multiple triggers we need to avoid. For example: Stanley isn’t allowed near ancient buildings and I shouldn’t be left alone like I was today and Wendy, if she stays around here often, shouldn’t be left hungry. But what would we do in the event that something _does_ happen and its inevitable?”

“Yell at them!” Mabel suggested.

“That… might work for you,” Stanford started slowly. “But not for the rest of us. Even so, what if something happens to your voice? We’ll all need a plan to get through whatever we do to keep everyone else safe. Now, thankfully, few in this family become aggressive. Stanley and I are most likely the only ones, I hope. As Stanley is susceptible to spells, there might not be much we can do save for find a way to reverse the spell. In the meantime, I have created a list of counter-curses and spells. Now, as for myself, disabling any threat I might be is, in theory, simple enough. All you must do is answer a riddle correctly. Theoretically, that would neutralize any threat I might be.”

Stanley scoffed, “Yeah, right. ‘There are two sisters: one gives birth to the other and she, in turn, gives birth to the first. Who are the two sisters?’ What does that even mean?”

Stanford pulled a book out of his bag and set it on the table. “I have created a book full of every riddle I know and every answer. As long as I myself do not research any other trick questions, this should suffice.”

Mabel took the book from the table and flipped to a random page. Dipper watched as her look of interest quickly turned to one of skepticism and boredom. “Ugh! Grunkle Ford! What do these mean?”

“I was getting to that.” Stanford dragged the book back over to himself. “Some studying should prepare you in the event you might need to use these.” Stanley and Mabel groaned. Stanford paused and went on, “Or we could keep this clipped to the entrance of my lab, where I will be spending most of my time. I organized these by subject.”

“Yeah, yeah. I can still take you on.” Grunkle Stan waved his hand as he put food in the refrigerator.

Stanford sighed. “Stanley, this is serious. I don’t want to cause any damage and I want everyone to be prepared for something to happen, even if it never does.”

Stanley rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m not remembering any of that.”

Mabel frowned at the book. “I’ll just sing you to sleep. That works.”

Stanford looked at Dipper. Dipper nodded. “I’ll read through them.”

“Thank you, Dipper.” Stanford pushed the book over to him so Dipper could take it.

“Well, I think I should go outside, uh, now. Thanks.”

Mabel reached over and unstrapped him from the wheeled water cooler. “Bye, Dipper!”

“Bye!” Dipper hopped out of the house and, choosing a nice place under the shade of a pine tree, settled down and read through the book. After the first page or so, he understood why Grunkle Stan dismissed it so quickly and why Mabel, though she tried, pushed it away. The “riddles” were very complex. Did Stanford just look up weird riddles for fun? …probably.

Eventually, a light shape appeared in the forest.

Dipper looked up. The white stag lay down across from him.

Dipper smiled. “Hey! Great Uncle Ford just gave me this book of riddles to study. He’s a sphinx.” He held up the book. “But it’s kinda hard to remember. Do you want to help me? …oh, wait. You can’t talk. Um…”

The white stag got to his feet and walked a few paces in the yard before turning around. He ducked his head and stamped one hoof.

Obediently, Dipper put the book in his vest and stood up. “Can you help me practice? Or show me something?”

The white stag held up a hoof. Dipper stopped. “Uh… do you want me to hold out my hand?” Dipper awkwardly held out his hand. They were too far apart for the stag to touch him. Then, the stag lowered his head, baring his giant antlers. Dipper let out a very unmanly yelp as the stag charged him. He bounded to the side and held out both of his hands. “Whoa! Whoa!” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat.

The white stag stopped and turned around so that he faced him.

“Uh, stop! Halt!” Dipper planted his hooves firmly in the ground and held out one hand, keeping the other by his waist.

The white stag hesitated, and then raised his head and relaxed. He bleated and dipped his head.

“Uh… wait, was that a test?” Dipper cocked his head and let his hand fall.

The white stag dipped his head again. Then, he cantered up to Dipper and huffed at his vest. Slowly, Dipper took out the riddle book. The stag took it, hopped to the other side of the yard, set the book down, and stood above it. He snorted and lowered his head.

“Okay, is this some sort of ‘pretending to be Great Uncle Ford’ sort of thing?” Dipper prompted as he approached.

The white stag dipped his head and then tensed. When Dipper got close enough, he bleated and charged. Dipper held out a hand. “Ok–stop!” When the deer ignored him, Dipper reared onto his back hooves and repeated, “Stop!” The white stag cantered to a halt before him.

All day, the two were outside, the stag forcing Dipper to learn different ways to placate a charging monster without speaking, and Dipper learning how to do so without normal instruction. But, eventually Dipper _did_ get tired and it was nearing dinner. So, the white stag bowed to him and bounded off into the brush hardly after Dipper could say goodbye.

Dinner… smelled weird. While their great uncles ate whatever, uh, _steak_ they’d gotten from the monsters, Mabel ate a well-cooked fish and Dipper had a salad of greens he’d never seen before.

“So,” Stanford started once Dipper came back. “We can read that book over dinner.”

“Uh, sure.” Dipper took out the book and set it next to Stanford. Though, as he got too near to his food, Stanford’s ears flicked back and his claws unsheathed. Dipper retracted his hand and looked down at his dinner. “Uh… so… I learned a few tricks. I can outrun anyone, I know that, but I can also stop someone.”

With an embarrassed cough, Stanford sat up straight and looked down at his own food. “Well, that’s good news! Are you learning this from someone?”

Dipper nodded. “Yeah! Well, I don’t know if he’s a someone. He’s a big white deer. He’s teaching me how to defend myself.”

Stanford looked up. “A deer is teaching you how to defend yourself? Well, if I’m going to be honest, I didn’t expect you to say that. But this was a deer and not a cursed human?”

“If he was a cursed human, he’d probably be more like me,” Dipper pointed out. “I mean, I think. But, uh, he taught me how to stop people from, uh, going wild or becoming like that, maybe? He didn’t speak, so I had to go with what I thought he was saying.”

Stanley piped up, jabbing a fork in the direction of the book. “So, you don’t need that thing?”

“W-well, not really, but…”

“Ha!” Grunkle Stan laughed. “I told you he wouldn’t!”

“Dipper and Mabel might have the ability to stop monsters, but you don’t!” Stanford hissed. “I’ve been trying to help you. Take my advice or don’t, I’m just making sure you… you don’t need to throw away another shirt of yours.” His speech ended in a grumpy huff.

Stanley shrugged and pawed at his food. “Yeah, well, maybe if you invent some sort of cat-taser I could use that.”

“I’m not going to let you taser me.”

Stanley snickered. “Wet blanket.”

After dinner, Dipper brought Mabel into the living room so that they could watch TV. Bored, Stanley went outside and flew onto the roof.

*          *          *          *          *

Stanley perched on the edge of the roof, right where Wendy liked to stay, right where they’d played with fireworks before Stanley got arrested. Stanley, wings held at his side and tail wrapped around him, watched the warm summer evening ahead of him. His eyes began to close. Even so, he could still hear and smell the place around him like never before.

However, a cat’s paws aren’t meant to be heard.

Large, six-toed paws crept over and slowly scaled down the roof. A long tail hovered soundlessly over the shingles. Then, the legs attached to the paws tensed and lowered. Fur brushed the old shingles. Fangs glinted in a toothy smile. Stanford took a deep breath and reared with a heavy roar, claws unsheathed, and wings spread wide.

Stan screamed and jumped to his feet. "LEFT HOOK!" In seconds, his fist connected to Ford’s jaw and sent the man stumbling back, a paw on the side of his face. Stan stared at his cackling twin brother. “What was that for?!”

Stanford lowered his paw, unable to stop his laughing. “You’re jumpy, aren’t you?”

“You’re _right behind me!”_ Stanley hissed. Thank God he had stone for skin or his burning face would just be more fodder for his brother’s teasing.

Stanford stood up straight. “Not when you were trying to hypnotize me with that laser light you weren’t.”

Stanley groaned. “Ugh! Is that what this was about?”

“No. I need you in my lab.” Stanford hesitated. “And, maybe just a bit.” He leaped off the roof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Food is, uh, a problem for meat-eaters. It's also a problem for plant-eaters... especially tasty ones like Dipper. ~~I wonder what that meat was made of.~~
> 
> Anyway, blame the roof scene on [this adorable picture.](http://laur-rants.tumblr.com/post/119989297997/young-monsterfalls-has-been-on-my-brain-lately-i)  
> Also, I'm pretty sure I'm going to go nuts and somewhere down the line I'm gunna have a Monsterfalls/Gravity Trails/Relativity Falls/Reverse Portal/Timestuck mash-up give or take Reverse Falls and Gravity Hop on my page. My goal is go as crazy as possible with AUs 'cause I learn to adapt and think creatively.  
> Also, also: I love writing that last scene.

**Author's Note:**

> Currently on Haitus, but will return soon!


End file.
